He did not move.
“Deogol, please. You must, you all must rise and be brave once more. You are our best chance at securing a victory.”
The shouts from below became louder. Through the chaos of noise, I heard Brennus’s low gravelly voice say, “Agros!”
Wirt raced to the hatch and looked down. He backed away.
“Adara, hurry, they are here.”
I tugged on Deogol’s shirt. “Get up.”
Screams and clashes of wood on wood and metal on metal dug into our ears.
“You hear that? Quick-quick young ‘uns arm yourselves.”
They did not move and made themselves even smaller. Wirt grabbed two of the altered guns and threw one to me. I caught it and turned to my bro. “Show me how to work it.”
There was no time for an answer. I heard the clitter-clatter of heavy feet upon the staircase and Aiken and Brennus entered, dragging an unconscious Hacket with them. They humped him over to a wall and turned to where the Meeks huddled together in the middle of the room.
“What means all this?”
“They are a-feared beyond fear, my dear and will not rise.”
Brennus went to Stillman and pulled him up. He shook him hard, picked up a gun and shoved it into his hand. The lad let it fall. “What becomes of ye all?”
“Nay time to argue man, they are here. Gie us one o these all-powerful weapons ye told me of,” Aiken said.
Brennus picked up the gun and threw it at him. Aiken caught it, stared along the barrel and pointed it at the opening. Then pressed every nodule and button that he could find.
Nowt.
The thing did nothing.
I did the same with mine as did Wirt. They would not fire. Brennus turned to Stillman and held him by the shoulders. “What ails these things?”
Stillman took a gulp. “They cannot be fired again. They are all spent.”
“Wha! Wha kind o weapons are these? Useless,” Aiken said and flung the thing onto the floor.
“Pick it up and use it as a club, my dear. It is heavy and will, I’m sure, cause some damage.”
“Nay, I’ll stick to my mell,” he said and held his club before him.
Shouts and thuds from below made the Meeks squish themselves together and scuttle back into a far corner of the room. I followed and spoke to my bro.
“Why so terror-struck?”
“We have run out of weapons. Our best and only chance is gone. Now all is lost.”
I could not stand their plight any longer. They had given more than they needed to. For it to end like this, in shame, was not to my liking one speck. I'd vowed to avenge my beloved Marcellus and I was not about to let him down. I was, and am not, Aamlet.
The sounds of conflict became louder. Heavy thuds of wooden stick against bone turned my belly up and over. An idea cracked inside my head like an eggy-egg being broken. My slipshod thoughts tumbled together and I knew what to do.
I closed my eyes and let my breathing ease out in slow and rhythmic breaths. Then I opened my lids, walked to the opening and onto the top rung of the ladder. The smoke had cleared enough for me to see. The place was littered with dead and dying bods, and I gagged as I smelt the sweet metallic odour of flowing blood. I climbed down and onto the spiral staircase. Standing as straight and tall as the biggest, oldest tree in all of NotSoGreatBritAlbion, I let out a piercing shriek.
All stopped as if a switch had turned them off.
They dropped their weapons, fists halted in mid air, and turned in my direction. When my lungs were almost empty, the image of Brother Jude and his teachings appeared before me. My nose filled with oxy and the sweat of those that fought. Round and round the air flowed into my chest and out and in. In circle after circle, allowing me to sing continuously, The Song of Forgetfulness.
I felt the meanings of the words that were but few, and made each one seep into the heads of all. Kendra said the song was sweet and mournful, so it was, but also absolute. In that, it washed away all brooding niggles that keep the dead from passing on.
My hope was that it would serve to make the living get over their great woes and angst, and disremember all their detestation of those that did them harm.
With every part of me that was good and true, I sang with words as well as the Tune, “Let all that is and will be done become as one and all. Let all the stars blink secrets old that tell of what is to come. Let all those who cannot see gain sight of all that is and all that will be. Let all become as one and one become as all.”
A look of bemusement spread across their faces. A look as though there was something they should be doing, but could not rightly remember what that was.
Slowly, like the moon ascending, those that fought and those that feared, lost the purpose to their grieving, and sat as if expecting the arrival of a cherished pal.
I finished on a lasting note that echoed throughout the place, and wiped my soggy eyes. My head buzzed and my spine ached with the effort. The tune sapped me to the brim and I forced myself not to think that each time I sang, I lost a little life. I turned and saw the Meeks all-quiet, holding each other’s paws and smiling.
Shakily I went down the stairs, walked amongst the seated hominids and felt a gasp of letting go as I passed each open mouth.
All weapons dropped, all anger fled from face and head, I stared in awe as one by one the foes that were, turned to each other and shook hands. Wirt came towards me all smiles and light of foot. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and said, “Ye have saved us all.”
I grinned back and wondered if he was right.
Chapter Sixteen
A Time For Letting Go
With instructions to attend to the Meeks, I left Wirt, walked to the silos exit and went outside. The air smelled of smoke and burnt veg. I tasted charcoal and spluttered out bits of cindered leaf. I ventured further away from the building to where crops used to grow.
Wisps of grey fog rolled past my legs and I looked to the fields. They were all covered in ash or smouldering stumps of charred stalk. I shivered despite the warmth from the sun and scratched my head. My fingernail hit a blood clot. I picked it out and flicked the thing onto the ground.
Then I heard someone shout my name.
I turned and saw, to my horror, Pratt. Up and about as though nothing untoward had befallen him. He wore a grey, shiny knee length coat and dark grey pants. My eyes went directly to his sleeves. The emblem was there, big and bold and black. It stuck out like an infected scab. I longed to rip it from the cloth and stuff it down his throat.
Pratt approached me, shoulders raised, feet scuttling along the gravel path like a bipedal millipede. He stopped in front of me, looked over my shoulder, pointed at the pyramid. “Adara, what scheme have you contrived? I caught the last moment of a tune you were flinging forth, and for a brief sec, forgot my name and who I was. Where are the guards? Where are the insurgents for that matter?”
There were many questions I wanted to ask this Agro, but there was a smack I owed him that far outweighed my curiosity. I shrugged off my feebleness and strode towards the all-healed candy-ass, fully intending to undo whatever cure he had taken, when I heard a sound of cheerful chatting. I turned my head and saw those that I had sung to emerge from the silo. Pratt backed away from the sight of guards and rebels meandering all casual-like towards him.
“What means this? You men. Apprehend these renegades at once,” Pratt yelled at his own kind. They did not obey his command.
Brennus led the newly calmed mob out of the building, and Kendra and Wirt, escorted the Meeks. Pratt attempted to hide himself behind me, but I pulled him to the front and held him there.
“What do you fear?” I whispered into his ear.
“More than you, so it would seem.”
I confess, I smirked and nodded my head all smug-like. I let him go and he turned to face me. His lips thinned and he gave me a most squint-eyed look.
“Before you congratulate yourself on a victory, look around and see the
outcome.” He swept his arm in a semi-circle and indicated the sizzling fields. “Still think you’ve won? What happens now, Adara? Now that the crops are all gone? Crops that your side set fire to.”
I gripped his arm. “Lies.”
“No. All true. All crops burnt to ash by your own.”
“There is grain in the silos. There are seeds in Cityplace and beyond.”
“Some grain, yes. But can folk live on grain alone? I think not. And as for your seed, well, look at the fields. They will need time to recover before they are fit to plant again. Too many moons will have passed before crops will grow, and too little food remains.”
I wanted to give a smart reply, but I could not. His words reeked of truth and it was a sour smell.
Flaring my nostrils, I ignored the nasty Agro and his smirkiness, and nodded to Brennus, who came marching towards us. He grinned like a newbie and stood beside me. Pratt stared at him and cowered. The Woodsfolk male let forth a mighty guffaw and slapped said Agro upon the back with such a mighty force that I had to relinquish my hold on him. Pratt lost his balance and tottered towards the crowd. He righted himself real quick and set to perusing the folk before him. He turned back to Brennus and myself.
“Where is Hacket? Have you filthy rebels done something to him?”
“Ay that we did. Only what he deserved, though. He lives but will require fixing.” Brennus folded his arms. “Ye have a voice upon yer, Adara, that is sure and certain. I know I mingle with the enemy, but I do not seem to mind,” he said and gave out a chuckle that spread throughout all who were gathered before us. Enemy and friend laughed and leant upon each other as though they were kin.
All thanks to my intervention and power of song. I noticed a wide-eyed look of incredulity upon Pratt’s face and let loose a self-congratulatory snort. Thusly filled with inner admiration, I blocked out Pratt’s words of gloom and allowed some thoughts to stray towards the Meeks.
I stood on tiptoe for a sec, looked over Brennus’s shoulder and saw Deogol approach supporting Esme by her good arm. His eye looked swollen and sore and despite all that was to be done, my sis instinct moved me to care for his well being over and above all else. I took hold of Pratt’s upper arm and squeezed until he let out a wimpy cry.
“There are many who need meds. Since you clearly know how and where to get this attention, I suggest you lead on and make it so.”
“Not without Hacket,” Pratt said and tore his arm from my tightly grip.
“Not an unreasonable request, Agro.” Brennus waved to Wirt and Aiken who were, to my surprise, engaged in a smile-filled convo. “Hey, Wirt, Aiken, gae back and fetch the flea will ye?”
Said Woodsmale waved back. “Will do. Come, boy,” he said to Wirt and lifted his mell as if to strike. Wirt flung his arm across his face and fell to the ground. I was just about to race to my friend’s aid, when Aiken let his head fall back and gave forth the loudest chortle I’ve ever heard. He took Wirt by the arm and pulled him to his feet.
“Do nay look so afraid, I’ll nay harm ye,” he said and looked in my direction. “Or ye, lassie. What is done is done. No hard feelings. Shall we go, laddie?” Aiken slapped Wirt across his back. He staggered forward and let the big male push him gently towards the entrance to the silo. I was gripped with anguish for his safety, remembering what Aiken had done to him, but Wirt appeared free of fear and disgust, and tripped lightly as if going on hols.
Perhaps Aiken was right and things that have occurred in the past should rightly stay there. With that thought, I turned back to Pratt. “Right, Agro,” I said and gripped his wrist, “you will take us to the med facility and tell us what has happened to Eadgard?”
“Ah, yes, your friend, well…”
“Well, what?” I dug my nails into his flesh.
“Ouch!”
“Speak or I will do more of the same.”
“Fine. Well, Eadgard is alive. Comfort yourself with that.”
I would have forced him to explain, by giving him a short, sharp punch to the groin, but Wirt and Aiken arrived carrying a still unconscious Hacket between them. They plopped him onto the ground and Wirt drew in much needed air from the effort of lugging such a dead weight. Aiken noticed his feeble action and roared with superior stamina.
“Ye are as weak as a newbie. Still, ye are almost kin and are brave beyond the ken,” he said and gave Wirt a friendly cuff about the head that sent those gathered into a fit of chuckling and nudging.
I was torn with mixed emotion at seeing Aiken and Wirt so pally. Not so long back that Woodsfolk ‘dult had defiled my friend most cruelly. Now, Wirt was giving him smiles.
I took in a deeply breath and pondered on the notion that I had been the cause of blocking out all memory of the deed when I let forth my song. To test the strength of my ability, I stared at Aiken’s face to see if he showed any signs of remembering the raptors I sent to savage him and the other Woodsmales. Nope, for he returned my gaze with a look of friendliness, or was it a look of not recognising who the huff I was? I caught Wirt’s eye, there was not a trace of sadness or pain. I had done a goodly deed and no mistake.
Pratt wriggled and I tugged him closer. I noticed him tilt his head to the right several times as if seeing something we could not. So, I followed his slant-eyed gaze to a silo that looked a little different from the others, in that it had windows. Two of them right at the top. They were hard to see since they were the same colour as the rest of the building. But I could just make out two square indents that could be nowt else. I leant close to Pratt’s ear. “What goes on in that place.” I indicated said building with a flick of my chin. Pratt paled a bit then smiled.
“Goes on? Not a thing. It is a grain storage unit like all the rest. Now, shouldn’t we be getting these wounded folk some medical attention?” He said the last part loud for all to hear.
Brennus waved his arms in the air to quieten the raucous crowd and walked over to where Hacket lay. He prodded him with his foot and the Agro groaned, a trickle of blood sliding from his parted lips.
“I will take over from Wirt in hauling this filth tae the med facilities,” he said and addressed the others, “Only those that are hurt can come. I have a feeling of distrust that warrants some able bods remain tae keep watch.”
Wirt stepped forward. “I’ll stay with the Meeks that do not need aid.”
“Fine, laddie, fine. Line up those that are comin’.”
There was a low murmur throughout the gathered folk. Then one by one the sick and injured moved towards where Brennus stood. I looked to the oddly silo. A twinge in my gut caused me to say, “I’ll keep Wirt company if Aiken will haul this Agro scum to said place of healing.”
Pratt stiffened and turned a flushed face to me. “What? No. No, no. Adara must come. She must.”
I twisted the fabric of his sleeve and yanked him close.
“Why?”
He stared at me all blank, then relaxed.m“Why? Because your dear, dear friend, Eadgard, has asked for you. Why yes, in between flashes of consciousness. The poor man is quite done in you know, he speaks but one name, Adara.”
I twisted harder and he gave out a squeak. “Liar.”
“No. I tell the truth.”
I felt a soft hand on my arm and turned to see Kendra. Her cuts were red and swelled so that her eyes were given over to the squint at all times. She tried to smile but the action made her wince. “If Eadgard needs you, my dear, you must go to him.”
“All settled. Let us go,” Pratt said and took a step forward.
“Aye, ye lead the way. Nay, wait. Aiken, stay wi young Wirt,” Brennus said and yanked Hacket to his feet. The Agro slumped against his chest and the big Woodsmale hoisted him over his shoulder. I nodded and grinned at Wirt. Then watched amazed as the unhurt Meeks went to him without hesitation as though he were their saviour.
Deogol, his arm around Esme, came to my side. “Shall we go, Sis?”
“We shall, little bro,” I said and allowed Pratt his freedom. In as f
ar as I released my grip on his arm. Staying close to his side, though, in case he did something mean.
With Pratt in the lead, we walked forward. As we neared the suspicious silo, Pratt sped up. He turned to us and said, “Best not dally. Quick-quick now. These unfortunates do look quite out of sorts.”
He went forward with such haste that I had to quicken my pace in order to keep up. I feared for those whose injuries were of the leg or foot, for they began to lag. So too, Brennus who, despite a goodly effort at a faster step, almost lost Hacket to the dirt when he tripped upon a rock.
“Oy! Pratt! Less passion in your stride. There are those that struggle.”
Without turning, he replied, “Not far now.”
He stopped at a fork in the road, put his arm out and indicated left. I joined him and looked to where he pointed. It was a narrow gravelled track full of weedly things and bits of broken boulders and branches. Quite unlike the uniform and neat paths that crisscrossed the place I was familiar with. How could such a scrappy walkway exist in this orderly world?
We waited for the rest to catch up. When they did, Pratt said, “We’re nearly there. Follow.”
He marched forward and I turned to Brennus. “Do you need a hand?”
“Nay, lassie. Ye keep up with that insect,” he said and took in a deeply breath.
I followed Pratt and we walked but a few steps more until we came to an overgrown hillock. I swizzled round and saw the others limping their way forward. Pratt stopped by a grassed over hump and put his hand out. “Well, this is it.”
“I see only greenery and muck. Is it invisible?”
“No.”
“Then where is it?”
“Obviously, it isn’t on ground level.”
“Right, below then?”
“Naturally.”
There was something in the way his mouth turned up at one corner when he spoke to me, that I did not like. He was after all, in no position to feel superior. Suspish upon suspish. I narrowed my eyes and pointed a shaky finger at him. “There had better be no one down there to do us harm.”
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