Escape Vo'Arum

by Nicole MacDonald

  Not bothering to change, she left Nanny snoring, sneaking out to talk to her parents.

  She found them seated at the kitchen table, savoring cups of herbal tea while they conversed. Papa stopped when he saw her.

  ‘Mila. Good morning.’

  The tone was enough to make her wish she could turn back. But she had to tell.

  ‘Papa. Mama. Uncle Vidna killed Uncle Jeran. He’s dead.’ It came out in a rush, Mila sucking a breath in once done, dizzy from the abrupt announcement.

  Papa’s brown eyes didn’t even blink.

  Mama didn’t say a word.

  They both stared at her. The silence made a horrible tense sensation move through her stomach.

  ‘You went in a manhole yesterday, didn’t you, Mila?’

  ‘Uuhhh… Ye-es,’ Mila stuttered her reply to Papa.

  He set the earthenware mug on the table and bent, elbows on knees, so his face was at her level.

  ‘What were you doing down the manhole?’

  ‘Ge-get-ting Addy’s ball, but Uncle Vidna…’ Mila squeezed the words out past the growing lump in her throat.

  Papa nodded and sat up, leaning back in the seat.

  ‘This lying, Mila. It has to stop.’

  ‘But-’

  ‘Mila!’ Papa’s sharp shout made her pull back in shock, her eyes wide. ‘I realize you don’t understand what your words could do, but you must learn this lesson. If you have done something wrong, own it!’ Papa smacked his hand hard against the wood table.

  Mila jumped, tears welling in her eyes. ‘But, Papa-’

  ‘NO! Mila you will learn the power of words alone. They can be stronger than any gift. No more of this nonsense, Mila. You were caught doing something naughty. You cannot push the blame onto someone else.’

  Mila looked to the floor, staring at her bare feet peeking out from the bottom of her nightgown.

  ‘Mila,’ Mama began, and Mila looked up. Her mama watched with kind eyes but a sad mouth.

  ‘We love you, darling. But we want you to learn the right way to do things. Everyone makes mistakes in life, how we react to these mistakes is most important. Mila, as a Mestarn you have more responsibilities on your shoulders than most seven-year-olds.’

  Mila nodded as she tried to understand. Tried to make sense of it, now unsure if it had been an awful day yesterday, or if she’d imagined it? Surely Mama and Papa wouldn’t be so hard on her. Perhaps she had fallen asleep in the tunnel? It made the clenching cramps in her stomach worse, forcing her to hunch forward.

  ‘Oh lovey, are you having stomach pains?’ Mama reached out, drawing her in and lifted her onto her lap while nodding at Papa. ‘Get the tea. Must be feeling guilty.’

  Mila wrinkled her nose at that, confusion and frustration building.

  ‘See Mila, you tell lies and even your body knows,’ Mama said, rocking her. ‘Try to relax, that will help.’

  ‘But, Mama, Uncle Vidna-’

  ‘Mila! Really! As we sit here worrying about you.’ Mama set her on the ground, Mila just getting her feet down in time. She stood, brushing down her full length day gown and stared at Mila, her mouth in a hard line.

  ‘No dessert for a month!’

  Mila’s jaw dropped, tears filling her eyes.

  ‘What’s more, you will go with Nanny to the village today. She will show you how privileged you are to even have time to play ball during the day!’ Mama turned, her skirts swirling out at the abrupt motion and the kitchen door slammed behind her. Mila could hear the firm clip of heels against the wood floor as Mama went to wake Nanny.

  A clunk on the table made her jerk around, looking in shock at Papa, her own earthenware mug steaming away on the table.

  Papa reached out to tousle her hair.

  ‘We love you, little one. Try to learn from this lesson. We don’t like having to be angry at you, Mila.’

  The gentle voice and his sympathetic smile and gaze had the tears running down Mila’s cheeks. He held out his arms, and she flung herself into them.

  ‘Papa, I didn’t mean,’ Mila couldn’t finish her sentence, not wanting to say she’d lied because part of her was certain she’d seen what she’d seen. But the tears seemed to satisfy him. Papa cuddled her on his lap and wiped her cheeks with the large square handkerchief he kept up his sleeve.

  ‘There now, have a sip, it’ll make your tummy better.’

  Mila nodded, accepting the mug he passed to her. She held it with both hands while she sipped at the hot liquid. The scent and taste of ginger plus wild mint did help to unknot the tension in her stomach.

  About halfway through her mug, the door opened and Nanny and Mama walked in. Mila ducked her eyes to the mug.

  ‘Darling.’ Mama’s hands rested on her shoulders and Mila felt the press of a kiss on her hair. ‘I do love you, very much. Please be a good girl, I don’t like telling you off.’

  Mila nodded eyes still down. She peeked up. Her mama’s lovely blue eyes stared down at her with affection.

  ‘Now, Nanny will help you get dressed. I’ll make some breakfast for you both so you can be on your way.’

  Nanny dressed Mila in simple clothes, a full shift beneath a brown pinafore and thick brown and tan striped stockings. The brown leather shoes she laced onto Mila’s feet weren’t at all attractive.

  ‘Nanny, my shoes!’ Mila gasped the words, horrified at the thought of her beautiful black shoes gone.

  ‘Not to worry,’ Nanny said in a brisk tone while helping her into a wool overcoat the same brown as her pinafore. ‘Uncle Vidna brought them over last night. Now, bend your head back.’

  With quick efficient strokes Nanny brushed and plaited her hair, the length just long enough. It stuck out paintbrush style. Mila reached back to pat the spiky end and giggled.

  ‘Come on,’ Nanny pushed her toward the door. ‘We need to go.’

  With breakfast still hot in their bellies, Mila and Nanny walked out the huge front entrance and down the stairs, hurrying along the wide path crowded with people walking to the lodge. All the people smiled at Mila and Nanny, wishing them a good morning, and Nanny did the same in return, squeezing Mila’s hand to remind her to do the same.

  Passing through the gates into the valley, Nanny talked about the valley, and the village.

  ‘It never used to be grazing land like this, Mila. It used to be a giant barren riverbed. Your great great grandparents, both Mestarn and DeNaga, used their gifts to guide the water beneath. It changed this valley to fertile land, providing grazing land for cattle, and good soil for crops. Just the skinny river down the far side of the valley remains on the surface.’

  Mila frowned. ‘But what happened to the water?’

  ‘It flows beneath us,’ Nanny smiled at her as they walked hand in hand down the dirt road that led to the village. ‘Creating great tunnels and providing us with all the water for your showers!’ She shook her head teasingly at Mila who looked away with a giggle.

  ‘I like showers.’

  ‘I know you do. You would run us dry given a chance.’

  The late summer morning had the beginning chill of autumn but still smelt of sweet grasses and sunshine. Mila inhaled the scent in deep breaths, making Nanny laugh.

  ‘You’ll pass out if you’re not careful.’

  Mila grinned then jolted, tripping over a stone. Nanny held her hand tight, stopping her from falling over.

  ‘Careful lovey!’

  ‘Nanny,’ Mila said as she recovered her step. ‘When can I have boots like yours?’

  The moss green knee height boots laced up the sides and had beautiful detailing. Mila had wanted a pair like them since Nanny got them for her birthday.

  ‘Oh-ho!’ Nanny said while arching an eyebrow at Mila. ‘Let’s see you look after your new shoes first. Then perhaps boots might be an option.’

  Mila wrinkled her nose, not saying anything.

  Perhaps it really had been a bad dream…

  Before long it was all far from her mind as she and N
anny entered the high wooden gate, the fence surrounding the village protecting them from attacks by hungry mountain trolls. The men and boys on watch called out greetings from where they sat perched in tiny huts built at intervals along the fence, horns at the ready. Mila and Nanny waved greetings to them.

  The main road ran right through the village, with dozens and dozens of thatched roof cottages clustered along each side. Occasional breaks allowed lanes to run crosswise through the village, with more cottages along each side. At the outer ring the buildings were great long stables, housing the cattle.

  ‘Why don’t they sleep in the fields?’ Mila asked, standing to the side of the road with Nanny as a farmer led a herd of massive awufs out to the fields beyond the safety of the fence.

  ‘So they don’t get eaten. Those cattle are what pay for the farmer’s children to eat, and to wear clothes, Mila. We don’t just get given things in life. We have to work for them.’

  The six legged awufs walked with a swaying motion, shoulders and back rippling almost like a short caterpillar, their cloven hooves kicking up dust clouds, making Nanny and Mila cough and sneeze.

  Nanny pressed a kerchief to Mila’s face, telling her to hold it there as she clapped one over her own face.

  It seemed to take ages before they all passed them by and moments later a breeze, light and dancing whisked the dust away. Mila giggled at the sensation.

  ‘Nanny! It tickles!’

  Nanny looked down at Mila in surprise, her long gray streaked plait falling over her shoulder.

  ‘Can you feel it, Mila?’

  ‘I can!’ Mila squealed with giggles when the tickling sensation whipped around her again before darting off.

  ‘Your little Mestarn is nearing maturity, Sila.’

  Mila and Nanny turned to see a woman about mama’s age walking their way with a wide smile.

  Mila watched as Nanny moved to embrace the woman, a wide smile on her face.

  ‘Yes, I think she is, Forniua. How are you all?’

  They hugged tight while Mila stared with curiosity. Nanny was one of the few non gifted in her life, hired as a permanent addition to their family to assist with raising Mila while both her parents worked hard at their roles within the land of Vo’Arum.

  ‘And what are you here for today, little one?’ Nanny’s friend crouched to smile at Mila, who suddenly lost her voice, ducking back a step behind Nanny.

  Nanny laughed.

  ‘She’s here to see what life is like for a villager, to get some understanding of what she will be protecting as a Mestarn.’

  ‘Ah, well then, come right this way. Today is washing day.’ The woman offered her hand to Mila who after a hesitant glance at Nanny, took it. ‘And what do we call you by?’

  ‘Mila,’ Mila whispered, face flushing at the attention.

  ‘I am Forniua, but you can call me Nuia, like all the young ones do. Come along, this way now.’

  Nuia walked briskly down one of the lanes, along and along, until they reached a wide open section crowded with children.

  Mila gaped at the crowd of them, all noise as they played, some playing chase, others standing in clusters conversing. Mila thought she counted almost twenty of them, mind ticking through the numbers. Several woman of varying ages and some men stood back from the chaos, leaning against two long tables that looked so strange out there in the open.

  ‘Nanny,’ Mila whispered, turning to find her right behind. ‘Why are those tables there?’

  Not only were there tables but in the middle of the yard was what looked like a low open box. Square with sides about as high as Mila’s knees.

  ‘You’ll see soon,’ Nanny said quietly before nodding to Nuia.

  Nuia let loose a piercing whistle, catching everyone’s attention.

  ‘Everyone, this is Mila, she is a young Mestarn here to join us for a day’s work! Please help show her what to do and make her feel welcome.’

  ‘Hi Mila!’ shouted several of them, Mila dipping her head in nervous acknowledgement. She hadn’t met any of them before. Before she could get to caught up with nerves, a creaking of wood caught everyone’s attention.

  Two wagons, one that looked like a giant barrel, and the other an open high sided wagon – piled high with clothes!

  Mila stared opened mouthed as the wagon with clothes dumped the load on a large wooden platform. She didn’t think she’d ever seen such a pile before! Clothes of all colors and sizes, bed sheets and drying sheets, even thick coverlets.

  That wagon trundled off while the barrel shaped wagon backed up and up until it hit the edge of the low box. The children all pushed and shoved, trying to get close to the edge of the box. One man walked to the back of the barrel, and with a couple of heaves turned an iron wheel attached to a large tap.

  Water, steaming and sweet smelling, gushed from the barrel wagon into the box, filling it up till it slopped over the top. The children at the edges cheered, all getting wet.

  Mila stared, eyes growing wider and wider, along with a growing sense of envy.

  Seizing implements that looked rather like blunt ended pitchforks, the women and men who’d stood back scooped piles of clothes onto those forks, carrying them to the water and dumping them in. As if on command all the children climbed into the water, charging around, stomping over the clothes.

  ‘Nanny,’ Mila tugged the skirt she hadn’t let go of yet. ‘Can I go join in, can I?’

  Nanny laughed, Nuia too. ‘You can, that’s why you’re here. Let’s just get you ready.’

  Nanny striped off Mila’s coat, pinafore, stockings and shoes, leaving her barefoot in her shift, like the others already in the water. ‘Go help clean those clothes,’ Nanny said, pushing Mila along.

  After a moment’s hesitation at the edge of the steaming pool, Mila climbed in when one of the larger girls yelled at her to join in.

  The warm water was slick and sudsy, Mila watched the others and copied them, drawing her knees up high and stomping over the wet clothes being dumped in. Now and then shouts or shrieks would ring out as someone lost their footing, sitting low in the water. Mila soon discovered that if you didn’t scramble to your feet, you got dunked by the others. The water that dripped down her face, running into her eyes stung, but it was too much fun to get out. Mila stumbled about half blind, blinking to help make her eyes run and clear the soap from them.

  Seated on the edge of the pool several of the older kids took their job a little more seriously, plucking garments from the water to give them a thorough scrubbing against ribbed wooden boards before dropping the pieces on a growing pile behind. Curious, Mila joined them and tried her hand at it, scrubbing someone’s blue jersey against the wood.

  ‘Whose clothing is this?’ she asked the older boy showing her.

  ‘Everyone’s,’ he said in a surprised voice. ‘Haven’t you done washing before?’

  By the time they’d stomped and scrubbed the very last item, Mila’s knees wobbled from exhaustion. The pile of clean but soapy clothes got dumped into smaller tubs of clean water and rinsed well, all the participants of the cleaning taking the opportunity to sit and let their legs rest as they leaned over the smaller tubs while swirling the clothing through.

  After the rinsing came the wringing and then the clothes were hung with strong but thin lengths of twine strung through the arms of tops or a pant leg on bottoms then hoisted up between posts erected at either end of the yard. By the end of it all the dripping washing looked like a yard full of fluttering flags that smelled clean and fresh.

  She sat with a sigh beside Nanny, who’d come out to find her once it was all done, and asked, ‘Are we done now?’

  Nanny laughed. ‘Not yet, little one, not yet. But now it’s time for a snack, come on.’

  With the others, they walked to a larger building, long like their Manor Lodge but not even a third its size. There were no steps leading in, just two open doors and the floor was dirt. Mila stared at it in surprise.

  Inside long tables ran
the length of either side of the room with a short table at the end that ran between them.

  ‘That’s for the head family,’ Nanny explained quietly to Mila. ‘See how everyone knows their places?’

  Like in the Manor Lodge everyone here went straight to their own seats, leaving Nanny and Mila standing in the middle of the room.

  ‘Nanny,’ Mila whispered. ‘Where do we sit?’

  ‘We wait to be greeted,’ Nanny replied.

  Nuia walked straight to the head family’s table then turned and faced the room, raising her arms.

  Everyone fell silent, eyes on her.

  ‘Thank you all for your help with the washing. We will eat shortly, but first I wanted to introduce you to our guest today.’

  Mila pressed tight against Nanny as all eyes turned to them.

  ‘Most of you know Nanny, but this is Mila, the little Mestarn that Nanny looks after.’

  Never had Mila been so aware of her surname. All those that she’d stomped alongside in the pool stared at her like she’d changed before their eyes.

  ‘Today we are going to teach Mila what it means for her to be a Mestarn. What the Mestarns and DeNagas do for our great realm.’

  Chapter Seven

  When they reached the Great Hall in the Manor Lodge lunch had already been served. But Mama and Papa had set places for Mila and Nanny. They beamed and waved as Mila and Nanny walked in.

  ‘Mila! Come tell us about your morning.’

  Mila, still holding Nanny’s hand, skipped as they made their way across the room, all eyes on them.

  It gave a rush of excitement to have the other children watching her, their eyes curious.

  ‘It was FUN!’

  Her exuberant shout made Nanny squeeze her hand to remind her to keep it to inside levels, but Mama and Papa along with her aunts, uncles and cousins around the table laughed.

  ‘Today’s washing day, isn’t it, Mila?’ asked one of her aunties.

  Mila nodded, her smile not budging.

  ‘Yes! They STOMP on the clothes, in water, you get all wet, it was so much FUN!’

  The rush of words left her breathless for a moment, her family laughing.

  ‘What about your Papa’s visit?’ Mama encouraged her.