I gave the first a weak blow in the head, but the diskos did its work well, and he toppled, dead, to the ground. I swayed upon the lip; my legs abruptly gave way beneath me, dropping me to my knees. Still, I wielded my weapon as best I could. Even as I fought, Naani sprang down from the rock and darted past the Humped Men. I tried to shout, to tell her to run for the raft, but my voice came out as a gurgle. Black despair filled me as I realized I would soon be dead, leaving no one to protect her or lead her to the Last Redoubt.
But Naani did not run away. Instead, she shouted at the men and darted back and forth, trying to draw them away from me. They ignored her, however, and one of the creatures reached me and delivered a blow to my armored chest that surely cracked his hand, for it drove me back against the rock wall at the far edge. Everything grew dark. I must have momentarily fainted. Then my sight returned.
My enemy made the mistake of trying to seize the diskos, and lost a hand in the effort. In response he struck me again, a terrific blow to the side.
Suddenly, Naani was there, running right in among them. She drove her knife twice through the arm of my attacker before the creature turned and caught her by her garment.
Seeing her thus gave me new strength, and I lurched to my knees and killed the Humped Man. Even as my limbs failed, I shouted at her to run to the raft. Blood washed across my vision, blinding me, and I fell back, but I did see Naani bolt away. The two remaining men paused, uncertain whether to follow her or finish me.
I heard her calling them, even as she danced toward the forest, but some silent communication must have passed between them, for they turned their attention back to me. Wary of me now, uncertain if I were dead or alive, they approached with slow, sly cunning.
My vision faded, but came back as I heard Naani's piercing scream. The next moment she tore beside the Humped Men, eyes blazing, face set, stabbing one of them in the shoulder as she passed. The man howled and turned. I thought he was about to kill her, but she leapt so rapidly from side to side even those swift creatures could not seize her.
They both approached her then, but she had already bounded back to the ground and into the trees. They sped after her, moving in their swift, lumbering manner.
By an act of will, I managed to clear my head a little. I pulled myself into a sitting position, but immediately tumbled over on my face. As I raised myself to my knees and crawled after her, I could hear my own breath pumping in and out like a faltering blacksmith's bellows. I tried to shout, but it came out as a rasping whisper.
I soon glimpsed her, a distant figure running among the trees, knife in hand, her enemies in pursuit. I thought one of the creatures staggered as if injured, while the one Naani had stabbed, who was in the lead, ran easily despite his wound. I saw them only an instant before they vanished into the thickets, leaving me alone.
The world became an empty horror; I could not hear anything except my blood pumping in my ears. I think I fainted again. Then I found myself on my feet, stumbling among the trees, trailing my diskos behind me. How I descended the rock I do not know; I have no memory of it. The ground seemed to shift beneath me; I could not feel my feet striking the earth, but I kept searching for my love. Strangled sobs escaped me. A thundering abruptly filled my ears, and I could no longer stand.
I awoke moments later, not wholly aware of having been unconscious, though I must have been, as I did not recall falling. I lay face down, but managed to lift my head to look among the trees. I saw no sign of Naani or my foes; a strange preternatural silence filled the whole world.
I knew Naani must be dead. Noticing my blood stains on the ground all around me, I chuckled grimly. If she were gone, I would welcome my own death.
I swooned again.
When next I woke I tried to lift my head, but it was too heavy. I turned my neck until my cheek lay flat against the earth so I could look around. Nothing crossed my vision for what seemed a long time—all appeared hazy as a dream—but then I saw a slender figure moving among the trees.
Naani ran slowly toward me, staggering as she came.
Somehow I got to my hands and knees, though I felt the blood seeping out as I began to crawl. I tried to call her name, but could not make a sound.
She drew near, stumbling, crashing into trees, half-blind from running. She saw me, still alive and trying to reach her. Her strangled cry was the first sound I had heard since leaving the rock. But when she was nearly upon me, she slowed, swaying, and dropped suddenly to the earth, overcome by exhaustion.
I crept to her as quickly as I could, though the ground seemed to move to avoid my hands. I had to look down as I went, because I could not lift my head.
I dropped to my stomach and slowly raised my eyes to see how far away I was. Beyond her fallen form, which lay yet a few yards from me, I saw the Humped Man Naani had stabbed slip out of the shadows, sniffing the ground as if tracking her. His wounds must have slowed him, for bright blood covered his shoulder and breast. Strangely enough, it occurred to me that I admired his tenacity.
I can be tenacious as well, I thought. I suppose that gave me the strength to rise to my feet, for I had to reach Naani before my enemy did. I ran forward, a stumbling gait, but made it only a few feet before I fell rolling to the ground. I pulled myself back to my hands and knees, while the Humped Man lumbered forward, moving like an ape.
It was a dreadful race, but I reached Naani first. No doubt the Humped Man thought me finished, for he came at me quickly, as if to end my struggles. Somehow, I got a grip on my diskos, rose up on my knees, and struck him even as he ran in upon me. His momentum took him past me, where he fell face down, dead. I would never have had a chance except for his injuries.
I could do no more. Blood poured from my wounds; my head lolled upon my shoulders. I looked down upon Naani, but could see no sign of an injury, though her blundering through the trees had bruised her.
When I tried to put my ear to her chest to listen for signs of life, I half-fell upon her. Still, I heard her steady heartbeat.
I have to get her on the raft, I thought, before darkness took me.
So Naani lay unconscious, as I, in my broken armor, fell senseless, my head upon her breast, while the far noise of the burning volcanoes rumbled through eternity.
XVI
THE ISLAND
Searing pain brought me back to my senses. At first I could not marshal my thoughts, but eventually I realized I was lying on my back. I wondered why I could not rise.
I heard a noise nearby. With an effort that sent excruciating waves of pain down my back and sides, I turned my neck an inch or two. Naani stood beside me, gasping for breath, furiously stroking with a pole, determination etched in her jaw line.
At first, I could not understand what she was doing, until I realized we were on the raft. I tried to speak, but her attention was focused on the shore behind us and the sound of something howling masked my words. With an effort, I tilted my head down until I saw a Humped Man standing upon the shore, staring stupidly and shrieking, as if he either did not know how to swim, or feared some creature living in the water. As Naani poled us away, his wails gradually dimmed.
"Naani," I managed.
She glanced my direction, but said, "Lie still."
"Naani," I insisted, "I fought a good fight, didn't I?"
For a moment I did not think she heard, until tears swarmed into her eyes. "You fought a good fight," she managed hoarsely.
I tried to rise to help her, but I fainted again, and so lay helpless as my brave beloved saved both our lives.
***
My memories are a vague jumble, filled with pain and discomfort, half-wakings and incoherent dreams, yet I always recall Naani's love around me, even through the black mists of swirling weakness.
I awoke once, feeling better, though my whole body still ached. Something soft lay beneath me and Naani knelt by my side, concern burning in her eyes. Her tears wet my face as she bent down, kissed me on the mouth, and cradled my head in her lap so she cou
ld give me some water. My throat was so parched I drank three cups, though the effort exhausted my strength. When I was done, she kissed me again, light as a breeze blowing across my lips, and I fell back asleep.
Three times this occurred, and on the third occasion I felt strong enough to move my hand enough to reach for her. She took it in her own small hands and kissed it. I looked into her loving eyes and slept again. On my fourth wakening I whispered that I loved her, and she broke into desperate weeping, holding my hand against her breast.
So I moved in and out of consciousness, but finally roused enough to become aware of my surroundings. We camped beside a rock formation surrounded by ancient trees and clumps of tall grass. The rock formed a natural alcove, and its overhanging lip concealed us from being seen from more than ten feet away. I lay naked beneath my cloak, my body bandaged all over with the bundle of clothes Naani had brought with her from her home country. She sat beside me, dressed in the body vest. I touched it gingerly, remembering how it had been ripped in the battle. "You fixed it."
Her eyes filled with tears again, but she said, "I am surprised you remember it being torn. I used threads from my old clothes and made needles from thorns growing on the island. It was hard work, borrowed from Mirdath's time, but I managed. Even your bandaging is hers, for I would not have known how, otherwise."
"Thank you for saving us."
She squeezed my hand, saying nothing.
"How did you get us to the raft?"
"I woke and found you unconscious, your head on my breast, and until you moaned I thought you were dead. I stopped the bleeding as best I could and dragged you to the raft. It seemed to take hours. The surviving Humped Man had dropped behind while chasing me, and I kept expecting him to appear. I suppose his wounds slowed him. I found the pole you cut and pushed the raft out just as he came out of the woods."
"I remember," I said. "I saw him. You were very brave."
"I was desperate."
***
My strength increased from that point on. Naani fed me tablet-broth at frequent intervals, and washed and changed my dressings regularly. Lacking any other cloth, we had to use the same bandages over and over.
By the fifth day, though my pain had subsided, Naani would not let me even so much as speak, but sat by my side and entertained me with stories. By the next day my mind cleared for what seemed the first time, and I stubbornly refused to keep quiet. It pained me to see how thin and haggard she had become during my ordeal, and I did not want to distress her, but I needed to understand why she had acted so erratically before the attack.
"Naani, I love you," I began carefully, a little fearful of causing a relapse by mentioning the subject. "Thank you for saving my life. You seem to be yourself again."
She dropped her head, tears springing to her eyes. "I can't explain what happened. I acted like a fool. I began thinking about how all my family was dead—I had two brothers, you know."
"I'm sorry. You didn't say."
"They were killed when the monsters first entered the redoubt. I couldn't stop thinking about them, and of all those I ever knew. So many good people. I kept seeing their faces."
"I thought a Force of Evil had possessed you."
She looked up and gave a bitter smile. "It felt as if it had, but it was all my own doing. I remembered those I knew as Mirdath: my guardian, Sir Alfred; my maid, Clara; Mistress Alison—all my old friends from dances and teas. I have survived them all. I don't know what happened to me; I just couldn't bear it. Some part of me seemed to just go away, as if I fled to some distant place. I watched myself treat you so badly, but it didn't seem real. I knew I was acting childish, but I couldn't help myself. Everything became so bleak. All I wanted was to die, to join them. I . . ."
Her voice faded into tremendous sobs. "They're all gone, but I'm alive! Oh, why did I live? My folly nearly killed you, too!"
I have never seen anyone mourn as Naani did then. For an hour she wept with such tremendous, gulping sobs I thought she would make herself sick. Being too weak to cradle her in my arms, I offered what comfort I could by holding her hands.
When her grief was finally spent, I said, "You are not the last. The ancestors of those we knew in Mirdath and Andrew's time still live in the Great Pyramid, your cousins, thousands of generations removed. And you must not be ashamed of how you acted. You couldn't help it. There was just too much sorrow. I understand it now. I should have realized before. And if you had not led the Humped Men away, they would have killed me."
She did not reply, but nodded her head. Then she brought me dinner, kissing the tablets as she had always done and letting me kiss hers in turn. She made mine into a broth and we ate in silence.
Afterward, I asked her to place my diskos by my side, though I doubt I could have lifted it. She did so, and lay down beside me, her head in the hollow of my arm.
"Does this hurt you?"
"No. I'm getting stronger."
"I felt so responsible," she said. "When my people learned I had contacted the Great Pyramid, they put all their hopes on me. They thought your people would be able to help us."
"We tried." I told her the whole story of the youths who had left the pyramid to come to her aid. When I was done, she said, "Then there was nothing you could have done."
"No. The Forces of Evil were too strong. And there was nothing you could have done, either."
Without another word she fell into the sweet sleep of oblivion, perhaps her first real rest since the battle. For a time, I stared down on the goodness of that lovely face. Seeing her thus, a holiness surrounded my heart, uplifting my spirit in a quiet glory of love and gratitude. Once more I had thought her lost to me, once more I found her by my side. I sighed and soon joined her in slumber.
At the third, sixth, and ninth hours I awoke and drank part of the broth Naani had made. The perpetual glow of the volcanoes lit the gray stones of the alcove with a comforting red light. After eating, I fell asleep again with my hand on my weapon. More than once, in my fading reflections, I thought of the diskos much as the ancient knights viewed their swords, as a true comrade that loved me. Such is the way when weapon and wielder become nearly one.
At the twelfth hour, Naani woke with a cry of alarm, but once she saw I was well, she nestled back against me. "I'm sorry I have slept so long," she murmured. "I should be keeping watch."
I laughed. "Indeed, how dare you sleep instead of standing guard? You should be ashamed. What kind of sentry are you?"
For a moment she took me seriously, but then raised her small fist against my nose. "I could take your head off with a single blow."
She looked so pretty and stern I chuckled again.
"Don't laugh so hard," she ordered. "You will start bleeding again. It isn't that funny."
"No, it isn't," I said, restraining myself, for it did make my wounds hurt. "You have been the best of watchmen. My little warrior."
"My circus strongman."
She eventually rose and made more broth, and we slept again.
***
I remember the seventh day on the island as a happy time. We woke and ate, and Naani washed my wounds. I began taking my tablets whole. Perhaps it was my imagination, but they seemed to satisfy my hunger more than the broth did. Naani insisted I eat often, but I complied only after counting the tablets to make sure we had enough to complete our journey.
We spent our time like children, talking and laughing, eating and sleeping. I still lacked the strength to stand, but was weak enough not to care. The despair that had overtaken Naani before the attack did not return, and her true, cheerful disposition reasserted itself. She loved to quip and tease and sing; I adored her sweet spirit; she made every moment a joy.
When she went to wash herself in a nearby pool, her being out of sight distressed me so much I called every few minutes to see if she were well. She returned, her hair a lovely cloud around her head, its tips just touching her shoulders.
I glanced at her pretty, bare feet. "You have forg
otten your shoes."
"You are so impatient I have to do half my dressing in front of you."
She sat down beside me, took the comb from my pack, and began straightening her hair. I reached up and plucked a single red-gold strand.
"Ow!" she said. "Was that necessary?"
I took the hair, put her ankles together, and wrapped the strand around her toes, binding them together. "Now you are my prisoner."
"You, sir, are not a gentleman." She pulled her feet away, though she kept them close enough so as not to break the cord.
When she finished combing her hair she took her knife, and with a threatening look, cut a lock of my hair and a lock of her own. These she plaited together and hid in her bosom. I insisted she do the same for me, and I slipped mine under the bandage covering my heart.
We did many such foolish things, that are not foolish to those who remember being in love.
Exhaustion soon overcame me. Naani quickly saw I had overtaxed myself, for my hands turned white and began trembling from a lack of blood. She ordered me to rest, then clenched her fists, placing them into my right hand until I fell asleep.
***
I woke, startled, to find her stroking my brow.
"What is it?" I asked.
"You were moaning in your sleep. Were you having a bad dream?"
I could not remember for a moment. At last I said, "It was like dreaming in a dream. Though it was about me, it seemed to be about someone else, as if I watched it all from a distance. I dreamt of a young man in the ancient days when the sun shone bright and pure upon the earth. He met a maiden, a woman who was his one true love, and they walked together beneath boughs of spreading oak and elm under the blue sky. They married, but she died in childbirth. His grief nearly destroyed him, until he found himself awake and alive in the far future, with his love alive as well.
"He tried to find her, and when he did, discovered she was different in form, but still lovely in body and soul. He revered her, who had been his wife in the ancient times, so that his reverence for her was like an anguish of sweet trouble, of holy thoughts bred of her lovely companionship and his memories—"
The Night Land, a Story Retold Page 27