Cycle of Life, the rise and fall of Tanya Vine

by Hannah Robinson

  Chapter 9

  of Girls and Goats

  The Council

  The sound of young girls voices drifted through the open door of the barn.

  “They didn’t exactly come to blows, but Connie Nesbitt and that fat Mona Verge had been nose to nose shouting at each other, and Queenie had been about to send for Beryl, when suddenly they’d started laughing as if nothing had happened. Anyway, the upshot of it was, according to Jenny Waverider who’d seen it all, you know, broken nose from Dockside, was that they disappeared into old Nessie’s house, and sent out for cider from our place. That Crampton lot had set up home in the old cottages past the spring, but nobody offered to help them. Well they were a queer lot weren’t they, you know, Northern bumpkins and all that. It were different later though, when Ma Nesbitt put the word out that it was the neighbourly thing to do, just to help out a bit, here and there. She didn’t actually say, ‘or else’, but you could hear it unspoken in the air, whenever she walked past you. The Bear, you know, that Anton, well he’d gone up to help Billie in the forge, yeh, still making spears and arrows, and he’d hardly got no clothes on again, and there was a steady stream of womenfolk finding excuses to go by the forge door. They’d suddenly start walking real slow and stretching their necks to get a glimpse of his chest. Never seen anybody that big without breasts had they? Well it’s true, can say it if it’s true. Then Sylvie, Jo, Max and Simon came back from the mountains and the whole place was full of giggling girls. Giggling women too, and you’d think they’d know better, wouldn’t you?”

  “Why was that then?”

  “Why was what?”

  “All that giggling stuff.”

  “Don’t you listen, Sali Vorden? I told you. It’s that sex thing, makes grown women go silly, and besides, Sylvie and the others spoke to Hood, didn’t they.”

  “Yeh, well we all pray to her every month, don’t we Tan, well I do, don’t you?”

  “Course I do, but this time, She spoke back to them. No, it’s true, Jo told me. They saw her up North, and she said pleased to meet you, and that now there’s two of them, yeh, two Hoods, so we’ve got to pray twice a month now. Probably have to wash out twice as many rags now as well, but that’s the price you pay for being holy.”

  “Are you girls idling again? Them goats don’t milk themselves you know,”

  “Yes mum, going mum,” shouted Sali, and they went to bring the animals into the paddock.

  “Nice,” said Mona, licking her lips in appreciation, “ain’t tasted Homestead cider since our Lily stole a barrel off that Collier woman last year.”

  “Well we got standards to keep up. Don’t make no rubbish like them slackers down Ibis way,” beamed Connie, pleased with Mojo’s compliment. “Course, your orange brandy’s a bit special as well, got a rare punch to it. Smooth, but punchy.”

  “So happens that I might have a bottle on me somewhere, dear,” Mona replied, fumbling around under her voluminous dress, and the amber liquid was soon being carefully poured into two of Connie’s best mugs.

  She gave Ma Nesbitt an appraising glance over the top of her drink.

  “You’re still sharp, Connie. Just like that cider o’ yours. Aint no one ever been able to shout me down ’cept you.”

  “Sorry about that, Mona. Things are a bit tense round here. If you know what I mean.”

  They talked on through the afternoon, and sent for a snack and more cider. Kirsty brought two ‘omelettes a la Vine’ and three apple duffs balanced precariously on a beer tray. One omelette was twice the size of the other, for Frankie knew about Mojo’s diet plan. Eat everything you’re given, then demand as much again.

  They had talked all round the subject of what they could do about the Central situation, without coming to any firm conclusions, so Sylvia and Lily were sent for. Sylvie brought Simon with her, and Mona batted her eyes at him again.

  “Hello, cheeky,” she said coyly, then turned straight to Ma Nesbitt.

  “So who’s on our side then Connie?”

  “Our side, already, Mona?”

  “Naturally. You got something everybody wants, and we’ll trade you for it. Total cooperation in exchange for big bellies.”

  The two gurus locked eyes across the room, and after a moment, Mona dropped her guard for the first time in more than four years and let the older woman see her.

  Connie screwed up her eyes and withdrew from Mona’s aura as soon as she could.

  “Right,” she said, reaching an instant decision, “Who’s on our side Sylvie.”

  Homestead’s Primera pretended to think about it, then addressed Mona, “there’s us, you, Dockside and maybe Gap. Against Central, Altmore, Ibis, La Via, Tintown and Lakeside.”

  There was a deathly silence and Lily lived up to her name as she visibly paled.

  “We’re dead. Central alone has more spears than us two put together.”

  Connie Nesbitt laughed, “Ah well, there’s the difference you see girl. They’ve got spears, we’ve got warriors.” Mona and Lily looked blankly at her as she continued, “and a secret weapon.” The smirk on her face was excruciating.

  Mona cocked her head slightly to the left as though listening.

  “What would that be, Connie?” she asked.

  “Ticky tacks.”

  Simon leaned forward, “Actually, it’s tactics.”

  “Don’t matter what you call it, still works the same, don’t it?”

  “Yes Ma Nesbitt.”

  Connie sniffed, and relaxed a mite. “As I said, we’ve got… tacky tickers, and they don’t.”

  “Well they better be good ones then,” Lily offered, with a shake of her head, “Cos I reckon that with Gap, we’ll have 120 warriors, and Central’s army of right can put out… oh, lets say 500 or so.”

  Simon’s eyes stared unblinking at Sylvia as he mouthed the words, '500?'

  She nodded at him slightly, but didn’t show that she too was becoming alarmed.

  The war council ground to a halt and Sylvie suggested that she and Lily should outline some battle plans the next day with Simon, Tony and the angels.

  It was Lily’s turn to be surprised, “angels? I heard some talk earlier, but I thought it was just some superstitious nonsense they was spouting. We’ve got angels on our side as well? Then I’ll be treble H damned if we ain’t got a chance after all.”

  Sylvia admonished Crampton’s leading sword, “don’t blaspheme so, Lily. Hood might hear you.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “No, truly. She was talking with me last week, got right chatty.”

  Lily rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. Southerners. Yokels, all of them.

  Gathering

  Sali was grateful that Tanya came down to the farm again, even if she was late, so she threw down her spade and they sat together in the orchard. This was no job for fourteen year olds, even if they were the youngest two in the village.

  “They should all have been down here, this very morning, scratching ma
ps in the barn floor like last time, but when those two Gap girls came running up to the Vine, red faced and gasping fit to burst, everybody sort of went poco loco. Seems that the grandmother’s a bit upset about us killing her favourite rangers that way, and has sent word to call out the militia, and they’re gonna come over here and give us a thumping. Yeh, it’s right, we’re gonna have to sharpen our swords again and get ready for another scuffle. Only this time, they reckon that there’ll be four of them to every one of us.”

  “What you gonna do then Tan?”

  “’S easy Sal, only got to kill one extra this time and that’ll be my four. Just hope some of them older ones can get their four as well, or we’ll be in the deep stuff.”

  “What are you lazy oafs doing now? You should be mucking out the chicken pen.”

  “Yes mum, just going.”

  “Damn and blast,” said Tanya, as they headed for the deep stuff.

  “No lass, don’t drink any more. Tell me again, now that Lily’s here.”

  Ma Nesbitt and Jade Bowyer had heard the garbled message once already, but perhaps the sweating girl would make more sense when she calmed down.

  “What’s your name girl?” asked Jade.

  “Swift, Susan Swift,” she gasped, “It was two days ago it happened, and Tammy Corncrake told us to get here fast as we could. Said she’d be very upset if we slacked any, said you needed to know pronto. Messengers from the temple in Central came from Ibis way. Said that we had to go to Altmore and be ready for a scrap. Said that Homestead had turned evil and needed teaching a lesson.” She paused to get her breath.

  “What next child, I didn’t get it proper first time,” prompted Connie.

  “Tammy asked them if they were staying, and they said no, they had to get to La Via pronto and had to be off. Tammy offered them fruit and cheese and the like, and a bottle of best white to wash it down with, so they stopped under the shade tree for a snack, and the next thing, they were all squirming on the ground and screaming. Awful it was. Tammy said the wine was probably off, and good job it was the last bottle.”

  “What happened to the messengers?” asked Jade.

  “Buried em straight away, didn’t want to attract vermin, did we.”

  There was a sudden silence as the impact of the message sank home, and Jade, Lily and Connie considered the news.

  “So the La Via militia will be late.”

  “Or better yet missing altogether.” Connie thought she could see where this was leading.

  “What’s Tammy going to do now?”

  “Said to tell you that Gap would be empty by the time you got this message. The old folk were going to take the boats to Dockside, and all the fighting crews heading overland towards Guardians Nest with the wagons.”

  Ma Nesbitt was struggling to keep herself from laughing with relief.

  “Look after them, Frankie,” she said to the inn keeper hovering in the doorway.

  “Jade and Lily, you go off and spread the word to get ready to move. I’m going on the roof for a sit down. Rest me legs, that sort of thing.”

  “Where we going, Ma,” asked Jade, as an afterthought.

  “The Nest girl. Got an appointment to keep.”

  Central’s army would have to come from the West through the valley below Guardians Nest, and once through the narrow pass, their superiority in numbers would be the deciding factor in any confrontation. Even Mona was dashing about, as ox carts were loaded with armour, tents, apple duffs and the like, in preparation for, hopefully, a short campaign.

  The first objective was to get to Ashers old farm at the Nest and stop the militia from opening up the battle front. Fail to do that, and they might as well have not bothered packing the carts.

  “You better take your lot now, Jade,” said Sylvia, leaning on the table, and looking down at the crude map.

  “If the militia get there before we do, then it’s up to you and Gap to hold them up. They mustn’t get past the Nest. Sabe?”

  “No problemo. When Lily’s girls get here, we’re going. Just hope we’ve got enough arrows to scare em off.”

  “Well if you haven’t,” Sylvia smiled, “get the Bear to show them his chest.”

  An hour later, Jade led the fourteen archers, including Anton, out of Homestead.

  It was when the last of them disappeared over the West field boundary, that the reality of another battle with Central really struck home.

  “We been lucky so far, gonna be messy this time.”

  “How d’you mean Jan?”

  “Stands to reason don’t it? See this?”

  She held up her left hand for Kerry to admire again.

  “Never thought I’d see it again. One minute, I was looking at blood shooting out of where it should have been, then it’s back again, and it’s as if I had been in dreamland, and it had never been hacked off at all. ’Cept me arm’s a bit short like, and that finger ain’t quite right.”

  “So what’s that got to do with it then?”

  “Well, that Caren said that she was sorry, but the doctoring machine had packed up and this was the best they could do. Anybody else loses anything, and it’s gone. For good this time.”

  “Lydia’s gone for good already.”

  Lydia’s death had been the only fatality in the skirmish with Martha’s patrol, and the Docksiders had buried her on the mountain side. Kerry and Jan went quiet, and contemplated the possibility of life with missing limbs and missing friends.

  Manoeuvres

  Tanya dipped her knife in the bucket and washed the blood off, then lovingly cleaned it with a soft cloth.

  “How do you know where to do it Tan?”

  “Your mum showed me last year. Done it for her ever since she seen the first one I did. Said they wouldn’t stand that way for her, and she had to tie em up real tight, and said that catching them was a right sod.”

  “Why do they let you do it to them?”

  “Don’t you listen Sali Vorden? I told you already. I just ask them nicely in goat thoughts and they go all calm. Wonder you can’t do it, living here with ’em.”

  Wandra and Billie had carried away the last of the three goats that Tanya had sent to pastures new, and they were now butchering them in the lean - to next to the kitchen, ready for the two day journey to the Nest. It was going to be goat on the menu for a few days.

  Tanya and Sali sat under the cherry trees sharpening and polishing Tanya’s amazing array of knives.

  “Where you get all these from Tan?”

  “Here and there. Mostly found them in the old cottages where the Crampton lot have settled, but this one was my ‘first blood’ gift from Mum, took this from the first one I killed six months ago, and this is my favourite. I traded it off the pedlar woman.”

  She held up the knives and Sali made the appropriate noises in appreciation. Tanya’s favourite was a cut down Toledo Espada, and could have been a pirates best friend.

  “What
you trade for it?”

  “One of your mum’s sheep.”

  “Tan, that’s stealing. Ma Nesbitt’ll tan your backside if she finds out.”

  “What, tan Tan?” and they both fell about in fits of laughter.

  The carts and most of the able villagers plus Simon, Caren and Denny set out at dawn the next morning, leaving behind the old and infirm, to feed the chickens and goats, and also Phil, Posy, Georgie and Susan, who were to wait till the next day in the hope of rounding up any stragglers. They had been chosen because they were all in their early twenties and very fit, but thought it a dubious honour, when faced with a forced march to catch up with the others. There were no stragglers and the dogs still refused to travel with them, which had been a matter of grave concern to Connie Nesbitt, who had been depending on the clan being by their side in the battle to come. But the sailors from Dockside had set out as soon as they could, after the Gap boats had tied up at their jetty, and all four bands of warriors were in the woods at Asher’s farm before the army of right from Central appeared.

  They had nearly two whole days of boredom and sharpening blades, and fighting only broke out twice between Dockside and Gap, then scouts reported the arrival of the first contingents of the opposing army shortly after midday, and the afternoon and evening were a kaleidoscope of march and manoeuvre as the four villages worked as one and thwarted Central’s efforts to force a way through to the open valley beyond. Ma Nesbitt’s tacky tickers had worked to good effect, with no serious casualties, but tactics wouldn’t be enough, and when the sun set, she was mentally exhausted.

  “Listen,” said Tammy, the guru from Gap, cocking her head on one side, “what on the Lady’s good earth can make a noise like that?”

  They all went silent, and paused with spoons of goat surprise midway between bowl and mouth. Sylvia had a huge grin on her face.

  “Sounds like dogs to me.”

  Caren Hummingbird had lived in the grounded time machine at the centre of dog city for about four weeks and closed her eyes as she listened.

  “Tag, and Sandal, Toldo, Daggit, that’s Flair, Sticker, Clock.”

  Tammy looked blankly at her, “What the hell’s she talking about?”

  “They’re coming,” said Connie, smiling at last, “all of them.”

  It was more than all of them, and a great cheer came from the Homestead camp and spread across the lines of tents, as the war dogs boiled into view, followed at a more leisurely pace by the party from Valencia.

  At first, those who hadn’t seen the dog clan before were tense and on edge, but for the Gap girls, who didn’t even know of their existence, it was a terrifying first encounter.

  Caren nudged Denny in the ribs, “look,” she whispered, and Denny briefly raised her eyes, then lowered them again.

  “Yeah, I’ve seen them.”

  “No, not them, her.”

  Denny’s brief glance had been at the boxes slung from poles resting on Jimmy and Walter’s shoulders. She knew that they contained the two energy swords that her future rested on, but now she looked where Caren pointed, at Gudrun.

  “Holy Mother of Hood,” she cried out, then quieter, “it’s her.”

  Five weeks of travel and working under the fierce sun clearing Valencia airport of rubble had taken it’s toll on Gudrun’s fair hair and skin. The girls recognised the ‘old woman’ they had seen on video in the Never Look Back less than a year ago. They had worked beside Goody since landing in the wood, but had not associated the bubbly girl with the old crone who had hijacked their time machine and sealed their fate.

  “I’ll kill the cow now.” snarled Denny, and Caren knew that in her sisters state of mind, it wasn’t an idle threat. Denny leapt to her feet and raced towards Gudrun, with Caren close behind her. Denny screamed and managed to knock the startled Gudrun to the ground, before Caren dived on her and wrapped her arms round her in an unbreakable hold.

  The fury of the moment passed, and eventually Denny sat calmly opposite Gudrun with Caren and Margaret between them. The others kept a discreet distance away. Caren had given her prayer book to Margaret for her and Gudrun to read, and at last Margaret closed the little book and looked up at Denny.

  “And you’ve lived with this since we arrived?”

  Denny nodded slowly, near to tears again.

  “It’s not all that clear in parts though, is it.”

  “Close enough to what’s happened so far, given the time that passed before it was, will be written.”

  “So I’ve done it already,” said Gudrun, frowning, “but I haven’t done it yet?”

  Denny just nodded again.

  “What if I don’t do it, ever,” suggested Gudrun

  Caren answered, “wishful thinking. You have and you will, there’ll be no choice. Father said it was quantum, or something.”

  “Lord have mercy, what’ll we do?” asked the appalled Gudrun.

  Denny smiled at last, “get cleaned up I suppose. Sorry about your split lip and black eye, Goodie.”

  Across the valley, the 487 strong army of right spent a restless night listening to the horrendous howling, as the male dogs did some serious drinking and sang some of the good old songs.

  In their tent behind the wagon line, Sali wiped the sweat off Tanya’s forehead, and stroked her curly brown hair. Tanya dreamed of goats, and bleated in her sleep again.