Things Unseen: (An epic fantasy adventure series) (The Caris Chronicles Book 1)

by Melina Grace

  “There was a small break in the scrub” Janen replied.

  “They’re trapping far afield from their village. There are not many animals left in these parts. A horde of derks came through, by the hundreds last year, devouring every animal in their path. You could ride for six days and barely see a creature, but they are beginning to repopulate. I was not aware any villagers had survived.”

  The three of them fell into silence as they contemplated what they might find when they reached the village. Caris considered falling back, as she didn’t want to presume on Crispin’s company too far, but he didn’t seem to mind them there and there was something comforting about his presence that kept Caris by his side.

  It was a little after midday the following day when they reined in at the edge of a small poorly built village by the side of the river. The villagers gathered in a timid huddle, between the huts, watching them with uncertain eyes. The band dismounted and led their horses to a shady spot by the river away from the village. Before Caris could approach the villagers, she heard Crispin quietly listing names, “Kalen, Bonny, Belti, Gemeil, and Jispri.” The five fell in behind him and they cautiously, as if approaching scared animals, walked into the village.

  Around Caris, people began to pull out food, but instead of the hurried lunch she was accustomed to, they started to assemble a meal twice as large as the dinner they usually shared.

  They started campfires, began to cook eggs, potato, sausages, and soups with cacti greens, watercress, and dried meat. Blankets were laid out and hard bread, biscuits, and cheeses were placed on them. Finally, when they had almost finished preparing the food and the aroma of cooked meat filled the air, Crispin led the fifty villagers over to join them. They were welcomed in gently and offered seats around the food-laden rugs. Fears melted away and smiles came out as bellies, long underfed, were filled. Caris looked around the group of villagers and realised they were mostly children and elderly.

  When the meal was finished, one of the old men started to speak. He was stooped with grey hair and a long thin beard, his dark leathery skin was lined with deep creases, but his voice was still clear and strong. “We used to be a prosperous village, living further to the west, we lived a good life with plenty to eat and plenty of loved ones,” at this the old women who were listening intently to him nodded.

  “Our village was about four hundred strong and once a year we would meet with other villages at the Great Mete to trade wares and marry our young men and women. Three years ago, two mete’s ago,” he said looking at the other elders for confirmation. Again, the old women nodded, “as there will be no mete this year,” he continued with tears coming into his eyes, “the Garndi’s, a tribe living farthest to the west, did not come. This concerned us, as no tribe ever misses the Great Mete, so we sent scouts west to seek a reason for their absence. The scouts never returned.

  The following year at our last mete four more tribes from furthest west never came. By this, we reasoned that there must be some threat to the west. It was but six months later that the derks came. Those you see here, along with a few others, were seeing out the heat of the day at the river, when we heard them coming. There was no question as to our imminent danger and so, without hesitation, we gathered air reeds. Fortunately plenty were prepared as the children were playing with them, and so we escaped by hiding under water in the river until the derks had passed us by.”

  Crispin spoke, “I’m sorry to interrupt you, but we are not familiar with ‘air reeds’” he said, looking around to see if anyone else had any knowledge of them. One of the old women nudged a ten-year-old child, a quick looking brown-skinned girl with big brown eyes and lank mousy blonde hair. The girl ran off to the river.

  The old man began to explain, “air reeds are reeds. We use a thin stick to hollow out the soft centres and then you can suck air through them. So while we lay on the bottom of the river, holding onto tree roots, so as not to float to the top, we put one end in our mouth and the other sticking above water and can breathe.”

  “That’s impossible,” said Bonny, in the belief he was making a joke to laugh at them. Caris looked around; the others seemed to be having as much trouble as her in believing that ‘air reeds’ could possibly work. The brown-skinned girl arrived back carrying a long thick reed. She picked up a thin stick from near one of the fires and began deftly to hollow out the centre of the reed. The band watched mesmerised wondering if this could actually work. She had it hollowed out within moments, then putting it in her mouth and poking it up in the air, she squeezed her nose shut with her fingers and started breathing through it.

  “Ingenious” said Crispin. Syngar, who had been watching the demonstration with keen interest, moved through the group, nudging Crispin out of the way, so he could sit next to the little girl with the reed. Crispin smiled in amusement and made way for him.

  Syngar took the reed from the girl’s hands and started examining it from every angle, looking through its hollow length, picking up the stick to examine the soft pulp that had been removed, running the stick through the inside to remove some residual bits and finally, putting the reed in his mouth to try breathing through it. His eyes lit up. As he began to remove his boots, Bonny and Kalen started laughing. Caris looked a question at them, but they just laughed harder and, shaking their heads, pointed at Syngar who was heading to the river.

  While Caris watched, Syngar stripped down to his underclothes and jumped into the river. He stuck the reed in his mouth and, being careful to leave one end above water, lay down in the river completely submerging himself. Though the water was shallow, it was brown and so Syngar disappeared completely from sight.

  Most of the band watched the reed in fascination waiting for Syngar to reappear and report on its efficacy. Crispin, however, turned to the elder who had been sharing their story and began to question him about what changes had occurred in the West over the last couple of years. The man had little to share beyond what he had already said about the tribes who hadn’t appeared at the Metes.

  After swimming for a while, Syngar emerged from the water exclaiming how well the reed worked; he lined up a group of children to help him cut reeds from the riverside for him to take with him. As people’s attention began to return to the elders, Crispin asked him to continue his story.

  He shook his head sadly, “when the derks were long gone, we hurried back to our village which was to the west of here. There were no survivors.” He paused staring at the ground lost in memory. Everyone sat in silence, Caris’ throat began to hurt as she fought to hold back tears.

  Finally, with a shake of his head, he brought himself back to the moment and continued his tale. “We stayed some weeks at our old village but it was too hard for us to raise enough food without our young men and women to work the ground and hunt. We were able to gather some food, as that had always been the job of the elders and children, but that was not enough on its own. The hardest part of staying there, however, was the loneliness. Not only had we lost our children”, gesturing to the young ones he said, “and parents, but as far as we knew there was no one left to the west of us.”

  Looking around he explained “You must understand, we were the most eastern tribe from the Great Mete, we had never had contact with anyone from east of the river. We could not make the journey to the Great Mete on our own and even if we did make the arduous journey without enough food, we had little hope that there would be anyone else there. Food would be easier to gather by the river and we hoped to make contact with others from the east, to provide a future for the children.” His voice trailed away.

  Quietly, Crispin asked, “You’ve been here almost a year, have you received no help from people passing on the road in that time?”

  One of the older women replied, “We have been afraid to approach people, we watch them ride past from the bushes. Some people look at the village in interest but no-one stops.”

  Another woman continued, “We cannot stay here. We have tried, but we cannot provide f
or ourselves. There is no future for the children here. Who will they marry? We must find people, and learn the ways of the east.”

  Crispin was looking deeply troubled. With a deep bow to the elders, he said, “Thank you for sharing your story, I wish we could aid you but unfortunately we are not able to escort you at the moment. We will let people know of your presence here, and The King of your plight.”

  Getting up with a glance at the position of the sun in the sky, he said almost sharply, “Pack up.” As people began to rise to obey his command, Caris noticed Janen staring at Crispin in open-mouthed anger. Crispin, oblivious to him, called out “Syngar, leave that.” Syngar reluctantly turned his back on the reed he was cutting and hurried over to Crispin. “Teach them to fish, catch up with us by sundown,” Crispin commanded him.

  The villagers watched in confused hurt as the band hurriedly packed things away. Caris’ companions handed sacks of grain and other food to the villagers, packing less than they left behind. The villagers accepted the food with solemn thanks, but the light of hope that had begun to shine in their eyes was gone.

  As Caris helped pack, she heard Crispin call the female scout with curly blonde hair. “Tilda, you and Bek will ride escort to Syngar. Tell Janen he is to accompany you. See if he will make a scout.” Caris looked with pride at Janen. With his alertness to all around him, she knew he would excel as a scout; she hoped she might be able to prove herself able as a scout also, so she could partner with him as they always had in the past. She watched him as he angrily stuffed things into his saddlebag. She knew what was upsetting him. Caris also was finding it hard to stomach Crispin’s seeming indifference to the plight of these people.

  Tilda approached Janen and spoke to him; with a shrug of his shoulders, he dropped what he was doing and trudged down to the river to join Syngar. As the last of the blankets were handed over to the villagers, Crispin called the order to mount, and with one last look at Janen, Caris cantered out with the band.

  Before long, Crispin reluctantly slowed to a brisk walk to save the horses and Bonny pulled alongside Caris. After a short while riding side by side, Bonny commented, “Janen was angry.”

  “Mmm, I don’t think he liked the way Crispin just left the villagers; they obviously can’t survive there much longer. Why couldn’t we escort them to the next town, or leave some people to escort them like Crispin did with our village?”

  Bonny took a while to reply ─ as if considering how much she should say. Finally, she said, “Our unit has grown much smaller. When we started heading south to rejoin The King there were sixty of us. Yours was not the first village we stopped to assist, nor the first of our number we left behind to escort villagers. Time is becoming more urgent and we can’t spare any more of our number.”

  After another short pause, Bonny added, “We must get word to The King of the heightened derk activity in this part of his kingdom. The Dark Lord is making more and more incursions. He is planning something. He has drawn The King’s attention to the frontier. We believed that most of his derks were there, but with more and more attacks coming from the west, it is obvious he hasn’t committed all of his resources to the battle.” She finished speaking, but Caris had the feeling that Bonny had left a lot unsaid and that there were other reasons for needing to reach The King so urgently.

  Bonny soon fell into a debate, with one of the young men, about what type of trees were growing alongside the river, and for the remainder of the afternoon Caris was left to her own thoughts on the matter.

  As the sun began to set, they reined in at a green grassy clearing beneath some trees. Caris dismounted and removed Indira’s saddle. As she set about relieving her of her reins, she stopped to stroke her long beautiful nose. Indira snorted and pushed against Caris in friendly acknowledgement. Caris felt a stab of guilt as she realised she hadn’t really paid any attention to her horse over the last few days.

  “I love you.” She said, “You’re a beautiful horse.” Unexpected tears sprang to her eyes as she realised her longing to have had someone tell her she was beautiful as a child. She quietly got Indira some food and set about brushing her down, determined to give her a really good going over in recompense for her self-absorption over the last few days. Bonny came over to help her but Caris stopped her, “I’m sorry for not pulling my weight the last few days. Thank you so much for your help. I’ll do better from now on.”

  Bonny smiled at her, “I know you will, I like to help anyway,” she said, pulling her into a warm embrace.

  It was as they were sitting down to eat that Syngar, Janen, Tilda, and Bek finally caught up with them. After dismounting and tending to their horses, Syngar and Tilda grabbed some food and, withdrawing with Crispin, spent the evening in deep conversation with him. Bek headed straight for the food and, filling his plate with a double portion, fell to with gusto. Janen walked over to Caris and collapsed exhausted beside her. Caris went to the fire to fill a plate for him. Initially he picked at his food slowly but after a short while, he began to eat more hungrily.

  “How did your afternoon go?” Caris asked him.

  “We taught them to fish,” he said bitterly, but after a pause he began to speak with some excitement, “You should see Syngar fishing. He’s amazing! He showed us all how to make nets by loosely weaving together the long tough grass that grows by the riverside. He said that they could make larger nets to catch more fish, and even suggested they make a big one that would hang off two ropes strung across the river. He said they could leave it over night and collect the fish in the morning or the afternoon, so they would remain fresh in the cooler water.

  He had so many idea’s, I’m sure they won’t remember half of them, but even some will help them. It was amazing just to watch him Caris, he had this small, hurriedly made net, but he caught enough to feed them for two days. He just seemed to know exactly where the fish were! Bek said Syngar grew up in a fishing town in a harbour. He was an orphan and no one took him in! Can you imagine a place like that? Bek said Syngar lived off his wits, he would hire himself out to go netting in the rowboats when they’d take him, other times he would go to the river at the outskirts of town and fish in the river, selling his catch at the market.

  I can’t imagine growing up like that, can you? No matter what we lacked, I always had family who loved me, and the knowledge that they would provide for me the best they could. We always faced our problems as a team; I can’t imagine living in such poverty, without even a home or anyone to help.”

  Caris found it hard to imagine any of what Janen described, even the thought of a harbour sounded like something from a fairy tale. It was Janen’s allusions to himself, however, that most caught her attention. She had always been aware that his family were poor. His father came from a family of five sons. He had been one of the lucky three who they managed to scrape a bride price together for, but that meant their family had divided their property three ways, and with no daughters to receive a bride price for and only ever making enough to provide for their immediate needs they had never been able to extend their property.

  Janen also was one of five boys with no sisters; his family, poorer than his father’s, had done well to provide a bride price for his two older brothers. All this was just common knowledge in the village where everyone knew everything about each other, but Caris had never really thought about how that would have affected Janen growing up. She had always had enough of everything and had never worried about having to make money or raise enough food. She sat quietly, finishing her meal, considering what life must’ve been like for Janen as a child.

  The next morning Janen rode up to join Caris on a brown mare. “Where’s Prince?” she asked concerned.

  “Bonny said Syngar, Bek, Tilda, and my horses need to be rested after we pushed them so hard yesterday. I get him back tomorrow.”

  Caris smiled at him, “He’s growing on you, is he?” she said teasingly.

  “I never said he wasn’t a beautiful horse.” After a moment he continued,
“We galloped yesterday; Caris I’ve never ridden a horse that came anywhere near him! It was exhilarating. I had to hold him back or he would’ve left the others far behind.”

  Caris watched him as his eyes glazed over in memory. She loved it when he talked so enthusiastically about things. He was normally so contained and understated, often making her laugh with his dry wit, but these moments when he completely forgot himself and got excited about something, were another attractive part of his personality.

  Caris was accustomed to not seeing many animals, as the sound of approaching horses normally scared them off, but she began to notice that there were few signs of any animal activity ─ only rarely, droppings or tracks. She commented on this to Janen, “I wonder how long it takes an animal population to increase after that many derks go through an area?”

  “I noticed some younger animals yesterday afternoon when we were riding to catch you, the occasional bindoo,” he said smiling as he pictured the cute funny creatures. Caris nodded and started scanning the surrounding land with more intention of noticing any signs of animals. They spent the rest of the morning competing to find the most indicators. By the time they stopped for lunch, Caris was pleased with herself, having found almost one tell to every two of Janen’s.

  After lunch, they rode together again. Caris found herself enjoying spending so much time with him. Though they couldn’t talk much because of the quickness of their pace, this didn’t stop Janen calling out the occasional observation to her, making her laugh. It felt good to laugh again. Janen had always amused her when they were out hunting. She had had to learn to contain her mirth so as not to frighten the animals. Often she would turn around to see him quietly watching her shaking shoulders with a smile close to a laugh on his own face.

  The afternoon passed quickly and Caris found herself dismounting not completely exhausted for the first time on their journey. After helping to clean up after the evening meal, she wandered down to the river. Finding a wide flat rock, she settled herself overlooking the water. The rock was warm, from the afternoon’s sun, keeping her comfortable against the cool evening breeze. She sat listening to the chirruping of insects, the breeze rustling the branches overhead, and the occasional splash of a fish or frog in the river. A warm feeling of happiness filled her; she had enjoyed her day.