by Oisin McGann
* * * *
Rug came to and found that opening his eyes had little effect on the darkness. Apprehension came over him as he remembered the landslide and he knew he had been caught beneath it. But there was air around him, and he could move the top half of his body. He felt above him; there were wooden boards over his head. Was it a … he struggled to remember. A box that people were buried in. A coffin. A chill went through him. Had someone actually buried him, thinking him dead? He pushed up against the boards. They were slippery with mud. With his fingertips, he followed them and found they angled downwards and pressed into his thighs. If it was a coffin, he was only halfway in. He felt further up and realised he knew this shape. This wasn’t a coffin – it was the skiff; upturned and acting like a roof over him against the mud, it had probably saved his life.
He pushed with all his might against the boat, but it did not budge. He shouted for help, but no one answered. He lay embedded in the mud, the overturned skiff protecting the upper half of his body. His legs were caught in muck up to his thighs, but a crack of light up under the other end of the skiff told him that he was not completely buried. He wondered how long he had been unconscious.
Rug realised he should be more scared. Being buried beneath a landslide was a frightening thing. But there was something about the darkness that he found comforting. He had a sense that the home he could not remember had been a dark place, a cave perhaps. Yes. He could imagine feeling at home in some deep cave. He heard sounds of movement nearby.
‘Hello? Taya? Lorkrin?’ he called. ‘Is there anybody to help me get out of the mud, please? I can’t seem to move! I’m over here … under the boat. Can anybody hear me?’
Nobody could. He waited and listened. Nothing. It was raining outside; he could hear it. And water was seeping down into his little hole beneath the boat. He wondered how long it would take to fill up completely. He pushed against the boards to try and lift the boat, but it did not budge.
‘Can somebody help me, please?’ he shouted. ‘I’m very stuck here. Completely stuck, actually.’
He heard urgent footfalls. There came the sound of digging and soon the boat was lifted away, exposing him to the full force of the sunlight. Draegar stood over him, a dark shape against the sunlight.
‘Hello,’ Rug said, hesitantly.
Draegar regarded him for a moment.
‘Who are you – and where are the children?’
* * * *
Dalegin’s head rolled to one side where he was leaning against the wall and he jolted awake. He looked around anxiously. The remaining torches were going out. Had he fallen asleep? How long had he been dozing? He had been awake when everyone had been roused by another earth tremor, but it had been distant and had passed quickly, so they had all just gone back to sleep. He fervently hoped that it was the last they would see of the earthquakes. Picking up his torch, he replenished it from the jar of silver powder and stood up. They were at a branch in the tunnel. He felt vulnerable, exposed to anything that might come at them. The Seneschal could come from anywhere and catch them by surprise. Utterly exhausted Dalegin’s body craved sleep. Nayalla had told him to wake her, but he was loath to give her the satisfaction of relieving him and he simply did not trust the Myunans.
Just as he was about to wake up Noogan, he thought he heard something further down the tunnel. He held up his light, but could see nothing. Dalegin was not a cowardly man, but he had no stomach for taking unnecessary risks either. He listened for a while longer, but did not venture any further down the passageway. Eventually he decided that he had imagined it and went back to where the others were slumped, asleep in the passageway. Shaking Noogan’s shoulder until the younger man came groggily to his senses, Dalegin told him to take next watch. The young man got to his feet to rouse his cold, numb limbs, and the other miner settled down to sleep on the warm spot on the stone that Noogan had left behind.
Mirkrin woke up not long after, nodding to the young miner and huddling up closer to his wife as he gazed into the darkness.
‘I’m cold,’ Noogan muttered, hugging himself and shivering. ‘Just can’t seem to get warm.’
‘It’s the stone,’ Mirkrin said softly. ‘Sucks the warmth right out of you. Should never sleep on bare stone. And we’re hungry too. We need to get some food in us.’
‘I could eat a horse …’ Noogan stamped his feet and flapped his arms. ‘No, a bexemot! Or a pile of good steaks, fried in butter, with new potatoes and some cabbage, done the way my ma does it, cut up with some onion and fried up lovely.’
‘I could murder some sausages in gravy,’ Mirkrin closed his eyes. ‘With mashed potatoes and beans and some bread and butter on the side. Nayalla here does this great nutty bread. You can wrap the sausages up in it …’
‘Neither of you know nothin’ about food,’ Paternasse’s voice chided them, his false teeth loose in his mouth. ‘What you want at a time like this is a good pie. My wife does a chicken and mushroom pie as’d make you drool like a dog. And an apple tart to follow, with cream and sugar an’ all on it.’
‘That’s my daughter’s favourite,’ Mirkrin said quietly. ‘A nice apple pie. Or blackberry. She loves them.’
He had been trying not to think about his children. It only made things worse, knowing they could be in danger themselves. Paternasse saw the expression on his face and recognised it for what it was.
‘You just got the two?’ he asked.
‘Yes. Lorkrin and Taya. Trouble since they were born.’
‘Hah!’ Paternasse chortled. ‘I know what you mean. I’ve got six myself, with the old lady haulin’ around number seven as we speak, due to drop in the autumn. They don’t give you a moment’s peace, do they?’
‘No,’ Mirkrin smiled to himself. ‘And I wouldn’t have it any other way.’
‘Aye,’ the old miner nodded solemnly.
Nayalla had woken, but did not join in the conversation, content to stay curled up against her husband and listen to the men talk. It had always fascinated her how men could be at each other’s throats, trading blows like mortal enemies one moment and then talking genially like close friends the next.
‘What about you, Noogan?’ Mirkrin asked. ‘You married? Any little ones?’
‘No, no,’ the young man put his hands in his pockets and stamped his feet some more. ‘Still sowing me oats, you know?’
‘Pay him no mind,’ Paternasse snorted. ‘He’s got eyes for that Ellene Magiden, ’aven’t you lad? Always had!’
‘No I ’aven’t,’ Noogan retorted, with a blush that went all the way to the tips of his ears.
‘Lad, she’s the only one as doesn’t know, yuh fool! When you goin’ ta show your hand? They won’t wait around forever, you know.’
‘I was waitin’ for the right time!’ Noogan protested.
‘The right time’s when yuh ask her yuh dolt, not the other way round! When we get out of here, I’m marchin’ you right back to her door and standin’ you in front of her.’
‘Ah, Jussek …’
‘It’s got to be done, lad, or she’ll end up with some clodhoppin’ farmer lookin’ for someone to tend his herd.’
Noogan looked shocked and pleased in equal measure, but did not say any more. He gazed down one of the passageways to avoid looking at the others.
‘Lads,’ he whispered, ‘I think I see a light. And it’s movin’.’
12 THE KRUNDENGROND
Afternoon light was seeping through the trees when Lorkrin opened his eyes. He lifted his head and found that he was half-buried in the ground, and covered in mud. Taya was nearby, already sitting up, but still rubbing her eyes as if she had just woken from a long sleep. She was equally coated in the muck.
‘Where are we?’ he asked.
‘Don’t know.’
He sat up and groaned as his body viciously reminded him of the previous night’s events. He was aching all over. The lines of bruises from the millwheel hurt the most. He concentrated for a moment and the bruises fa
ded almost to nothing, hidden by his ability to change the colour of his skin.
Looking around him, he could see they were in a quiet glen; one that must once have been quite picturesque … before the landslide had piled in on top of it. The shattered remains of the millwheel that had crushed him were off to one side, lying on the mound of rubble that – until recently – had been the mill itself. And standing beside the pile of earth-strewn wreckage was a dejected-looking Reisenick. Lorkrin gave a start, but the man just glanced over at him, and then went back to looking at the wheel.
‘Hello,’ Taya greeted him hesitantly, as she stood up.
‘How y’all,’ he replied without looking up.
‘Are you a … are you one of Ludditch’s clan?’ she asked.
‘No, I’m a Pluggitch – the last o’ my line.’ He shook his head miserably. ‘Don’t have no clan no more since my old maw died. Just had me this mill and this here wheel. Had a dog for a time. Dog died too.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Taya said, sympathetically.
‘’S all right – waren’t your doin’.’
‘Taya! Lorkrin!’ Draegar staggered down the broken earth of the hill towards them. ‘By the gods, I thought you were dead! We’ve been searching all morning. Are you hurt?’
‘A bit battered,’ Taya told him. ‘But we’re okay. We were sort of buried, I think. That’s why you didn’t see us.’
Taya and Lorkrin waded out of the mud and threw their arms around Draegar.
‘Oof!’ he exclaimed. ‘Go easy. I feel like I’ve been run over by a stampede of bexemots. I won’t walk right for a week. What happened to me?’
‘You got caught in an avalanche, but we saved you,’ Taya told him, throwing a pointed look at Lorkrin. The Parsinor beamed at them.
‘You did marvellously. And that avalanche should put Ludditch off our trail for a while too. It seems luck is on our side for a change. My thanks to you, children, for saving my life.’
‘That’s all right,’ Lorkrin chirped. ‘Springing you from the Reisenicks was harder though.’
‘I remember some of it,’ Draegar nodded. ‘You showed nerves of steel. But how did we get here? I seem to remember being in a boat or something.’
‘That’s right,’ Taya said, uneasily. ‘We put you in … a boat and went downriver.’
‘Then another earthquake happened,’ Lorkrin put in. ‘We got you out of the water … eh, boat and … well, it was all downhill from there.’
‘I woke up with my hands and feet bound up with rope,’ Draegar grunted. ‘That was the Reisenicks, I presume?’
‘Absolutely,’ Lorkrin nodded.
‘I met your new friend, by the way,’ the Parsinor said. ‘He says you gave him his name. Rug, eh? You could have come up with something more dignified.’
‘It suits him,’ Lorkrin shrugged.
Rug shuffled forward, raising his hand in a hesitant wave.
‘You made it!’ Lorkrin exclaimed. ‘We thought you’d copped it when we saw the boat turn over.’
‘No, I didn’t … cop it,’ Rug said happily, as he wondered what to do about the two children whose arms were now wrapped around him. In the end he patted them tentatively on the heads and waited for them to finish their hugging. Taya stood back and looked at him.
‘You feel cold, and you look a state,’ she said in a heartening voice, looking towards the large pool that was all that remained of the river running through the centre of the glen. ‘We all do. We need a good bath.’ She turned to the Reisenick, and called: ‘Do you mind if we swim in your pool?’
‘Can’t do no harm,’ the Reisenick called back, still staring at his wheel. ‘River’s gone now anyhow. You go on and swim there – enjoy yourselves. Got to take what little pleasure there is in this life, that’s what my maw always used to say. ’Fore she died.’
‘Fancy a swim?’ Taya tilted her head towards Rug.
‘I don’t think I can swim,’ he replied.
‘You can wade,’ Lorkrin took his arm. ‘Come on. Get some of those clothes off you before all that mud dries on.’
‘No!’ Rug barked, pulling his arm away and making Lorkrin jump. ‘I … I’m not taking anything off. I’m staying the way I am.’
‘That’s okay,’ Lorkrin stepped back warily. ‘Well … we’re going for a swim to have a wash. You can come along if you like.’
He made a face at Taya as he turned around and they waded into the pool.
‘He’s a bit touchy, isn’t he?’
‘Maybe he’s just shy,’ she said. ‘He still doesn’t remember anything about who he was; he’s probably really uptight about everything. And see the burns on his clothes?’
‘Yeah, so?’
‘I think he was in a fire, maybe a forest fire or something.’ She looked back to check that Rug was out of earshot, then leaned closer to her brother. ‘I think he might have been badly burned.’
Lorkrin’s eyes widened.
‘You reckon? That’d be mad. I wonder what it looks like?’
‘Don’t be sick.’
‘Don’t act like Ma, I know you’re wondering yourself.’
They both went quiet at the mention of their mother and said nothing more until they reached the water. The day was warm and the water looked dark, but inviting. They plunged in and paddled around for a while, washing the mud from their bodies and talking about what had happened over the last few days.
Rug came down to the riverbank later and lowered himself into the water with all his clothes on. He stood there, shoulder deep, moving his arms around and rubbing dirt from his clothes absent-mindedly. He did not even pull down his hood or the scarf that hid his face. Taya watched him with concern, but did not say anything.
‘Imagine getting burned on the face,’ Lorkrin whispered. ‘It must be horrible.’
‘Shut up,’ his sister muttered.
They were about to start arguing, when Draegar strode up to the bank and called to them.
‘Come on out of there. This clansman knows of a storyhouse not far from here. He says we can get transport there to catch up with your uncle.’
* * * *
Noogan and Mirkrin undertook to investigate the light, while the others waited behind in case they should run into trouble. The two men walked cautiously down the tunnel. On one side, there was a flight of steps leading up to another level, while down the passage on the other side, another flight led even further into the depths of the mountain. The light had flitted just at the limit of their vision for an instant before disappearing and they reasoned that it had gone around a corner. They would walk down as far as that corner, but would not go out of sight of the others behind them.
‘Could’ve sworn it was like someone carryin’ a lantern,’ Noogan said quietly. ‘The way the light moved, sort of swayin’, like.’
‘If there is someone else down here,’ Mirkrin replied. ‘Chances are, they’re not friendly. Or they think we’re not. Either way, it might be best if we didn’t run into them.’
‘But what if they know a way out?’
‘Well, that’s why I’m following a strange light down a dark tunnel in the middle of mountain that’s tryin’ to kill us. ’Cause being careful hasn’t really worked out for us so far.’
They reached a junction; their tunnel ended where it met another going at an acute angle to it. The floor was sloping downwards.
‘I’m only guessing here,’ Mirkrin said, feeling uneasy about the new passage. ‘But I don’t think we want to be going any further downwards. If that light wants to steer clear of us, then let it. I reckon we should take those stairs we saw back there and head upwards, once everyone’s ready to move.’
‘I’ll second that,’ Noogan breathed. ‘Doesn’t smell too invitin’ down there, anyhow. Let’s head back.’
‘Right you are.’
They walked backwards for the first few steps, wary of the sloping tunnel, but unable to say why. Then they turned and retraced their steps back to the rest of the group.
>
* * * *
Draegar was talking to the Reisenick, Pluggitch, about what had happened to them. Pluggitch nodded slowly as he listened, never losing his expression of perpetual dejection.
‘Ludditch does well out of the tribute system,’ he said, finally. ‘It keeps the peace in Ainslidge Woods – helps him put up with all the strangers who pass through. He hates strangers, but you can’t fight the whole world. On the other hand, we don’t get many of…of…of your sort round here. Some of the more … sheltered of the clansmen might see you as just another animal to be hunted. Their blood lust is an unfortunate hindrance to clear thinkin’, if you ask me. Myunans, now, they’re a different matter. They’re neighbours to our woods and any Reisenick would be careful in their dealings with them. If what you’re sayin’ is true, then Learup Ludditch has started somethin’ that would bring the Myunan tribes into our woods in search of vengeance. I know Ludditch some, and he is not what I’d call a rash man. He wouldn’t go startin’ somethin’ like this unless he was sure to profit by it. But I can’t see how he could escape the consequences of killin’ Myunan children. Myunans are not warmongering, but they are relentless in the protection of their own.’
‘Maybe the exorcist has something to do with all this,’ Taya piped up.
‘Kalayal Harsq’s presence in these woods is certainly a cause for concern,’ Draegar mused. ‘Where he goes, great loss follows. He and Ludditch are a bad mix.’
‘Ludditch said they wouldn’t have to worry about the Myunans any more,’ Lorkrin interrupted. ‘What did he mean?’
‘Really?’ Draegar growled. ‘I wonder how he reckons on that?’
‘And what’s krundengrond?’ Taya asked. ‘He said there’d be krundengrond.’
‘Krundengrond means “ferocious earth”,’ Draegar told them. ‘I saw a stretch of it once, far southwest of the Kartharic Peaks. The earth churns and chews on itself like a sea in a storm. But the violence comes from within the earth itself, rather than from the wind.’