by Bev Allen
“If it does, I haven’t heard it yet.”
It was an interesting and adventurous night. The half-moon provided a small amount of light, but barely enough to make a shine on the river. After a brief discussion they had decided not to ‘borrow’ a canoe, reasoning to each other it would be dangerous to paddle an unknown stretch of water in the near dark, chancing hidden rocks and unseen eddies, but secretly acknowledging they did not dare. Even Lucien was not prepared to face those consequences.
It was hard finding their way back. In places the bank was treacherous where the river had undercut it and tree roots had weakened the soil.
Sometimes they were forced to go further inland than they felt comfortable doing and a couple of times it got them lost and they found they had been going round in circles in the darkness.
Lucien managed to fall in the river twice, Vlic once, and several times they had to chance wading out into the fast moving stream to get around some obstruction.
It was demanding work and they both knew in their heart of hearts, it might not have been the cleverest move, but neither of them was going to admit it. Plus, returning without a good reason for going in the first place was likely to produce some unpleasant consequences for both of them.
Lucien seemed to accept this much the same way he accepted the rise of the sun every morning, but Vlic had been brought up differently and upon reflection, he was becoming uneasy about how far female permission would sway his father.
Every now and then this thought made him go quiet and thoughtful.
Lucien was salving whatever small qualms of conscience he had by telling himself Jon had not actually forbidden him to go sneaking off in the night. Whatever he possessed by way of a guardian angel gave up at this point and handed in his harp and halo.
Towards morning they stopped and slept for an hour or so until the dawn chorus woke them up and day light made the doubts of the night seem trivial. They ate a cold breakfast on the move and made their way back to where the sluggish stream left the main river and began meandering back into the hills.
Vlic pulled a long face when he saw the abundance of reeds, but Lucien scoffed at his concerns and headed off along the way.
But Vlic was right, the banks were very soft and soon they were sinking deep into thick clinging mud.
“We’re going to have to go up,” he said, pointing to the slope of the hill above them. “We’re never going to be able to get through this.”
Getting away from the clinging ooze was not as easy as they would have liked and by the time they had struggled to firmer ground, both of them were caked in thick black mud.
“You stink,” Vlic remarked and just managed to duck as a fistful of pungent mud flew at his head.
They scrambled up into the tree line where the ground was drier, but full of roots and shale. They slipped and slid, sending small stones and soil tumbling down the side into the valley; anyone within earshot would have heard the noise and known someone or something was there.
“We’re going to have to go higher,” Vlic said, and they struggled further up and up until they achieved firm safe ground.
The sun overhead was hot and sweat poured down their faces making the mud run in rivulets, but once nearer the crest of the hill it was cooler and they could look down at the stream through the leaf canopy, a glittering sliver of bright green and silver twisting its way along the valley bottom.
They made their way along the ridge line, keeping low so as not to be silhouetted against the sky, but always trying to keep the water in sight.
Sometimes this worked, but often they were again forced deep into the woods and made to guess the right way forward.
The lie of the land helped them. They knew down meant the valley floor, but once they were fooled by a rain cut notch and found they had been following nothing more than a dry course. It took an hour to retrace their steps and get back to the correct place.
The day wore on and they knew they would have to return to the valley bottom to find water. Unsure of what else they might find, they took a cautious route, slinking from bush to bush, constantly stopping to listen for unusual noises.
When they finally reached the edge they found the stream was still lush with reed, but it was also passable and Lucien grinned in triumph.
He scanned the water both up stream and down and saw something to make the adrenaline surge through him. There were places where the reeds had been pulled from the mud and flung to one side to make the passage wider.
“Told you!” he crowed.
“You did indeed,” Vlic replied, but he seemed distracted. Suddenly he began to hurl stones, smooth round pebbles he had been picking up as they came down the slope.
Lucien stared in the direction he was attacking and saw the fluttering bodies of several small brown birds.
“How many did I get?” Vlic asked, sliding over and swiftly despatching the wounded.
“Four,” Lucien replied, gritting his teeth to wring the neck of the last survivor.
“Quail,” Vlic told him with a grin. “Ground feeders and not as fast as they should be.”
Lucien inspected the small brown speckled birds. They were pretty little things with soft feathers and red legs. He felt a little sad something so small should have died.
He felt the same as they plucked them, but changed his mind when he tasted the result cooked crisp over the fire. Vlic smiled indulgently as Lucien followed his example and cracked the skulls open to suck out the brain.
As dusk fell they settled down to make up for lost sleep.
Dawn saw them back on the ridge. They had reluctantly decided if they found no more substantive evidence by mid-morning, they would have no choice but to turn back. They had nothing but the pulled reeds so far, and there was no point in adding a missed deadline to the list of probable charges Jon and Iesgood would have lined up for them.
They continued following the stream and soon the land began to level off and they began to see signs of beaver engineering.
“I think there must be a dam making this stream slow,” Vlic said and Lucien nodded in agreement. Somewhere not far ahead, there would be a lake and an area of open land where beaver had harvested the trees for food and building materials.
Half an hour later they still had not reached it and Vlic said, “We should turn back.”
Lucien gave him a speculative look.
“Okay,” Vlic replied with a sigh. “Another hour. No more!”
Eventually, two hours later, a broad open space spread out before them. In the middle they saw a wide still pool reflecting the clear blue sky and the white clouds piled up like pillows high into the atmosphere.
The dam blocking the stream was a couple metres high and characteristic of long established beaver work.
From the cover of the trees both boys looked out over the meadow. Vlic took Lucien’s arm and pointed to a place at the very edge of the tree line.
There was a cabin or shed there; built close up to the tree line away from possible flooding, and a thin column of smoke rose from a fire somewhere close by.
Over to one side were indistinct shapes, some sort of humps upon the land. Both boys stared and stared through squinted eyes trying to work out what they were.
“I think they’re tents,” Vlic said.
Lucien squinted again and nodded, “I think you’re right. They do look like tents, but I’m not sure what sort.”
Movement caught their eye, the cabin door opened and someone, probably a man, came out, paused, then went and disappeared into a small lean-to attachment at one end of the cabin. From the distance it was impossible to make him out.
Whoever it was, he had attracted attention there, and figures were coming out of the tents and even from a distance, it was possible to see they were tribesmen by the way they moved.
Lucien and Vlic did a small triumphant war dance, before dropping swiftly back to the ground.
“We’d better go straight back,” Vlic whispered.
“I want to see what tribe they are,” Lucien replied, preparing to move off down towards the lake.
Vlic put a firm hand on his shoulder and said, “Neen!”
As usual in the face of opposition, Lucien’s jaw set and he got the mulish look. “I’m going to have a look,” he whispered, teeth clenched.
Vlic hauled him back down to the ground. “Listen, you fool, I really like you. I want us to be friends, just like my dad is with Harabin, but you sure as hell make it difficult!”
“I …”
“Shut up! We had permission … sort of … to do this, but it was on condition we came back quickly.”
“But …”
“No buts,” Vlic said. “We don’t know how many are down there. What if you get caught or injured or even killed? We need to report this.”
Lucien silently did battle with his pride and his ambition. The last time he had ignored Vlic’s advice he ended up sick. And he had made Jon angry, topping the whole fiasco off with an act of sufficient stupidity to earn a good hiding.
He was fairly certain he had managed to do the second part again, which might lead to a repeat performance of the last part, something he was not looking forward to, but he could avoid a possible reparation of the first part if he listened to sense.
Without a word he turned and began retracing their steps and Vlic sighed with relief.
Chapter 15
They made good progress back, but it was obvious they were not going to meet their deadline; however they were sufficiently confident of the welcome their news would receive to think they would be forgiven for the delay.
Confident they were leaving danger behind, they allowed themselves a little day dreaming; there might be a few harsh words at first, but once they announced their discovery, they both saw themselves being spared painful repercussions and instead responding modestly to a few words of praise.
It was a pleasant little fantasy and each dropped their guard to indulge it, thinking the other was on the alert. Neither gave as much attention to the sounds around them as they should have.
The first indication of trouble was a small shower of shale rolling from a point above them on the ridge.
Vlic froze and Lucien had his rifle off his shoulder in a flash. Their eyes went straight to the source of the sound and just for a fraction of a second they saw something move. The saliva dried in their mouths and sweat broke out on the palms of their hands.
“Deer?” Lucien mouthed to Vlic, who shook his head.
Neither of them were inexperienced hunters and Vlic had the wisdom of generations behind him. He indicated silence and directed Lucien to a well grown bush a metre away. They were both still grubby from the mud of the previous day; this and their deerskin jackets provided them with the perfect camouflage.
Vlic moved slowly to concealment behind another bit of growth, settling down to become one with the landscape.
There was another small avalanche of stones as something made its way down the slope.
Neither boy made a sound, their breathing slowed to a minimum to avoid even a hint of their presence. Silently Lucien gestured to his war club, keeping the movement small and well covered. Vlic gave a tiny nod and his knife seemed to flow into his hand.
More stones, more dirt and a tiny grunt of pain.
The something was someone.
They were coming down the slope and were not having an easy time of it, the ground crumbled with every step taken.
There was the tiniest hissed whisper of ‘shit’ as a larger shower of gravel came tumbling down.
Lucien mouthed ‘How many?’ to Vlic, who lifted one finger.
For a second Lucien wondered if it might be Jon come looking for him, but he dismissed this as foolish. The person on the slope was making little noise despite not being able to get a grip, but Jon would not only have been able to walk the slope with ease, he would have done it in total silence.
Whoever was there finally got his balance and was making his way more confidently. From his place of concealment Lucien saw a pair of tribal boots and a water canteen swinging from a long strap.
He was after water and came down to the stream to get it.
As the boots passed, Vlic thrust out a foot and they stumbled over it, falling headlong down towards the stream.
Instantly Lucien was upon him, thrusting a face into the soft earth, pinning him down and Vlic rushed to sit on the legs to stop them flailing around.
Lucien lifted his club to put an end to it, but Vlic grabbed his arm as it came down.
“It’s a woman,” he gasped.
Startled, Lucien let the club fall; grabbed his prisoner by the hair and yanked that face out of the muck. She gasped and spat dirt from her mouth and then began to struggle violently.
“Stop it!” Lucien ordered. “Move again and I’ll brain you.”
She stopped, but every muscle was rigid, ready for fight or flight.
“Who the hell is she?” Vlic asked. “Is she alone?”
“Dunno,” Lucien said. “Is there anyone else up there?”
She glared at him, brown eyes wild with rage and fear, but she did not answer. Before Vlic could stop him, Lucien yanked her head back again by the hair and snarled.
“Is there anyone else up there? Answer me.”
“No,” she spluttered. “I’m alone.”
“If you’re lying, I’ll ...” Lucien was not sure what he would or could bring himself to do, so he just said, “Hurt you in ways you’ll find imaginative.”
He felt her stiffen and was rather proud of himself; unfortunately he had no idea what to do next, and looked hopefully to Vlic, who shrugged helplessly.
“Who are you?” Lucien demanded after a flash of inspiration. “And what are you doing here?”
She put up her hands to wipe the mud from her face.
“Can I have a drink, please?”
The two boys exchanged looks, it did not seem an unreasonable request, so Lucien handed her his canteen and she almost snatched it from him, using a little to wash her mouth, spitting and then taking a long drink.
“I ran out of steriliser a while ago,” she said. “I’ve been boiling the stuff ever since.”
A vague memory stirred in Lucien’s mind, even covered in mud there was something familiar about her. Whatever it was, one thing was certain, she was from The Settlement and no tribal girl.
Vlic was watching her in awed fascination, he had never seen a woman from below The First Cataract before and he was amazed by her brown eyes and her height. Even sitting it was easy to see she stood head and shoulders above the girls he knew, The People were not a tall race and their women were diminutive compared to colonial ones.
She drank again and then asked, “Where’s Harabin?”
Vlic shot a questioning look at Lucien, who was equally surprised. He decided to play it clever.
“Who’s Harabin?” he asked.
She threw him a look of total contempt.
“Don’t give me that bollocks,” she snapped. “Where’s Jon Harabin? Do you know? Or did he see through you and send you packing.”
He gazed at her in astonishment and finally light dawned. “You’re the girl who wanted to take my place!”
“The girl whose place you stole,” Stacey Wainwright snapped back. “I know why you wanted it; I’m just surprised The Guild fell for it. How long did it take for Harabin to see sense and kick you out? I bet it wasn’t long before you scuttled here to your father and his friends.”
He understood the words she was saying, but their meaning made no sense to him.
She sneered again. “Oh, don’t worry. I know mine is there as well, up to his pathetic neck in the whole bloody business and wetting himself in case he’s found out. But he’s just a weak little man who loves a bit of power, not like yours.”
“Mine?” Lucien said, still staring at her without comprehension.
“Come on!” she jeered. “Daddy Marcus must have been over the moon when he managed
to get you that apprenticeship. Someone on the inside to feed him information about The Guild and especially about Harabin, who’s been a thorn in his side for years.”
“Jon only met my father once,” Lucien protested.
“He may have done, but Devlin knows him. Knows all about his efforts to stop trouble amongst The Tribes and keep a lid on any aggression between them and the settlers. He’s wanted a way to neutralise him for years.”
The utter contempt of her tone and the disdain on her face rocked Lucien to the core. He heard what she was saying, but not one word of it made sense to him.
“Why?” Lucien asked. “Why would he?”
“Because he’s been trying to make this planet go up like a firework for years and years!” she snapped back. “With a little help from a whole load of others who want to get their hands on it and my bloody father who wants to be seen as a great provider of largesse and power.”
There was only one way to handle these accusations and Lucien took it.
“I don’t believe you,” he stated.
“I don’t give a fuck whether you believe me or not. Your father is a ruthless bastard and you’re here to help him do the filthy things he has been planning for months and months, probably years.”
He wanted very much to hit her and make her take back every word, he even raised his hand, but Vlic stopped him.
“You mustn’t strike a woman.”
“But you heard what she said!” Lucien snarled.
“I did,” Vlic agreed. “Is it true?”
“No!”
“How do I know?”
“You must know,” Lucien protested.
“No, I don’t,” Vlic replied with dangerous calm. “You defy Harabin dheillwer and you don’t obey his orders. You wouldn’t leave the cat, even when I told you it was a totem animal. You wouldn’t return when you knew it was time. Why?”
Lucien stared at him in horror, words failing him.
Stacey smirked in delight.
“Kill him, warrior,” she said. “Before he can betray both of us to his father and his gang.”
Vlic glanced down at her, his lips twitching slightly.