Silverstone Part One: Through Dark Waters

by J.J. Moody

Ben spent the next few days in the company of Appleby, Eva, Liam, Ivor, Alder and others of the Peregrine farmers.

  The people were good-humoured and the camp was often filled with laughter. They had suffered greatly during the plague, and in their travels with the tented village from one place to the next, but rather than break their spirits, it had made them hardy to most day-to-day problems. Even the latest bandit attack was treated with a good sprinkling of jest, and the warriors’ heroism exaggerated ever further at evening meals, which the camp ate together in the main shelter.

  “If those marauders want to take my best blucumbers they’ll have to do better than a few bows and arrows and sneaking up at them through the forest. Why, I’ve more to fear from the snails and brownfly than them!” he’d heard one lady shout.

  “My turnapples’d turn sour and poison the land for that foul behooded lot if they laid a hand on them anyways!” another chimed in.

  On Appleby’s farm plot, Ben tried to assist as best he could. On the first day as their guest, Eva showed him around to get him familiarised so that he could help with her chores.

  She began with the pomp-hens. “Pomp-hens lay us big, rounded eggs, like these beauties.” She held up a black-shelled sphere the size of a tennis ball from the laying tables inside the wooden hutch. “If we’re lucky, they each lay three a day, and that’s plenty for us and leftovers to barter with. But Pomp-hens need to be treated carefully,” she said, as she placed the egg carefully in a grass-cushioned tray and directed Ben outside to the day pen.

  “Pomp-hens are very majestic and like to be treated with respect. You have to stick to the same time going into their hutch so as not to surprise or interrupt them, and if you’re looking at one and catch her eye you should bow and show her lots of humility, or she will get very grumpy and peck and scratch at you till you’ve learned your lesson. When you feed them it’s best to keep your eyes down and carefully spoon the feed into neat piles; they’re a very particular about that as well.”

  Ben stared at the strange things. They were a lot like the chickens he knew, but bigger and prouder, and with bright, multicoloured feathers more like he’d expect to see on a parrot. One of the birds strutted towards him, and he noticed a bright yellow crest on its head, swept upwards and to one side like Jordan’s blond quiff. It looked boldly back at him, and he suddenly realised that Eva was bowing next to him. He hastily bent over, hoping he had been fast enough. After a minute the pomp-hen pivoted like a catwalk model and swaggered away confidently.

  Next, Eva moved them along to the digboks enclosure. As Ben walked towards it he thought it might be empty, as he couldn’t see anything moving within the fence perimeter. All he noticed were some muddy mounds, and near them a few short posts, which had wide, flat metal bases.

  “Digboks are very difficult animals to keep,” Eva began, “because they love to burrow. If we let them, they would dig their way to the great open plains west of Murdimore, and I bet the one or two we have lost are there right now, feasting on the green grasses.” She chuckled.

  Ben looked more closely. At the top of each post there was a taut rope, leading straight down into a little hole in the ground. The mounds must be everything they had dug up already, he realised. “So you keep them from escaping with those heavy anchors in the field?”

  “Yes, exactly. The land anchors hold them. But we keep them well fed so I think they’d miss us if they escaped anyway.” She picked up a bucket of yellow pellets from near the gate, and motioned to Ben to follow her inside.

  They approached one of the holes, and Ben leaned over to see how deep it went. It dropped steeply for at least five metres and then ran off towards one of the other openings.

  “I think the tunnels probably connect with each other down there in a big underground cave where they all sit, planning how to overthrow us and make their escape,” she said as she shook the feed bucket.

  For a minute or so nothing happened. Then the rope on the anchor twitched.

  Ben took a step back, slightly apprehensive about what creature might emerge.

  The other ropes began to slacken, and Eva kept shaking.

  After a few more rattles of the bucket, a short legged, pale haired creature the size of a lamb sprang out and looked around. It shook off the dirt to reveal a pair of large ears, baby horns, a hairy beard, and a snout covered in long whiskers. A tongue hung from its open mouth, and it looked very much like it was smiling.

  Ben stepped back beside Eva as the other digboks appeared and wandered over. The animals rubbed up against them insistently until they were fed, and devoured the pellets hungrily.

  As soon as they had finished the feed, the digboks turned their inquisitive snouts to Ben, wriggling their damp noses around his legs and hands. He worried they may have confused him for a food pellet.

  “These ones aren’t so proud!” Ben laughed

  “They seem to be quite interested in you actually!”

  Finally, in the largest pen, Eva introduced Ben to the two hayhoppers, Mirri and Mordred. “The hayhoppers will eat anything that grows out of the ground, and have got quite an appetite, so we have to move their pen around regularly. We only transferred them from the north side of the camp a couple of days ago, and they have already eaten their way through all the grasses and plants here.” She motioned to the earth, and Ben could see it was very brown at the end nearest to where the animals stood.

  One of the animals looked up from the grass it had been busily munching through, and began to slowly rear back on to its two rear legs. It had a long tail, Ben could see now, and its front legs were slightly smaller. Then it began to hop towards them. It wobbled around awkwardly like it was a bit too fat to be jumping, but managed to keep its balance until finally it had reached them. It lowered back onto all fours, and sniffed at Ben’s feet and hands.

  “Mordred’s looking for a reed sugar lump!” Eva explained. “Here you go, why don’t you make friends.” She handed Ben a cluster of reed sugar.

  Ben slowly extended his closed hand out towards Mordred, but the hayhopper had already covered it in a long tongue and soaked it in green saliva before he could open it. He yanked his hand free before the animal digested it too, and wiped it off on his shirt with a groan.

  Eva laughed. “Don’t worry, they do that to me too!”

  Ben was eager to help despite his lack of farming experience, even with animals in his own world.

  On that first day he managed to let one of the Pomp-hens out of the day pen, and had to run after it, bowing enthusiastically. Later, he was bitten on his behind by Appleby’s favourite digbok. But Eva’s gentle laughter and reassurance helped him overcome his embarrassment, and he quickly picked up the basics.

  Each day Ben would get up with Eva before dawn and help with her morning chores; collecting the pomp-hen eggs for breakfast, milking Mirri the hayhopper, and checking the fences around the animals for any suspected wildfox burrowing.

  Soon they were racing through their tasks, and able to devote more time to what Appleby called ‘mischief’, which seemed to be anything except the chores. They gave the pomp-hens great warrior names, tasted the autumn wild berries Eva knew were safe, and would watch the sunrises from a hill to the west of the camp, hidden from Appleby’s watchful eye by a few bushes.

  One day, as the sun rose over the great Lake Kaidesh, from where only a few days earlier Ben had appeared, he found himself confiding in Eva.

  “You know, I didn’t come from King Elmer or Norchand, Eva. I don’t even know who King Elmer is for that matter.” He tried to gauge her reaction.

  “I came from the lake. I came through the lake, through some kind of portal. From a different world to this one; to yours.” Ben tried to assess whether she would run away and call for help, and he would be thrown out of the camp. “Please don’t scream and run away.”

  Eva’s expression eventually cracked into a smile, and Ben breathed again.

  “Perhaps you are a reincarnated fish.” Sh
e made a fish faced pout at Ben, and pretended to swim towards him, a hand raised as a fin above her head.

  Ben grinned. “Perhaps I am. Or maybe I am one of those ghostly creatures from the mysterious lake!”

  They both laughed.

  Ben knew he was safe. They rolled down the far side of the hill like younger children, and Ben thought of Toby and how much he would have enjoyed it.

  Ben and Eva talked more each day. She was very curious about Ben and his world, and asked him a lot of questions.

  “So, you normally have two names?” she asked, as they cleaned the pomp-hen hutch.

  “Sometimes more. It depends on where exactly you are from in my world. At least one is chosen for you by your parents, like here, but the other one belongs to your family.”

  “Then everyone must carry a lot of names. One is more than enough to tell people who you are. There are plenty of different names to choose from after all.”

  “But what happens here if someone you don’t know happens to pick the same name as you?”

  “That has never happened that I know of, except for with you of course. But I suppose one of you must change your name,” she answered simply.

  “I’m not sure my world would have the patience for that. We choose the same names too often, and it would be confusing to change names all the time.”

  Eva emptied a bucket of pomp-hen droppings into the wheelbarrow. “Your world is a very odd place. Your creatures are similar to ours, yet your knowledge must be very great for you to build these ‘cars’, ‘planes’ and other things. Your elders must be so wisecrinkled with the burden of all that, they must hardly be able to move!”

  That sounded like what Frummer had said to him when he had told him his first name, Ben thought. “What do you mean by wisecrinkled Eva?”

  “Well, wisecrinkled is when someone’s body changes as they learn things, but usually only after they are already fully grown. The more things they learn, and the exact things that they learn about, change how wisecrinkled they look. Alder is our wisest person, and he is very crinkled and grey haired, but I think his crinkles are from laughter and the joy of what he has learned mostly, and he still has most of his hair so I don’t believe he has learned of much to worry him in his life. My dad says Alder’s crinkles and hair have changed a bit this last summer though.”

  Ben listened closely. “Doesn’t everyone just get older as they age? Everyone get’s wrinkles and grey hair don’t they?”

  “No no. My father is aged older than Alder, but he is very much less grey and wisecrinkled, because he has not learned nearly as much, and he has learned mostly of tending animals and crops, and drinking vol by the fire, so has had much more laughter.” She stopped a moment. “He doesn’t know much of the wider realm, and what nasty things are out there that might one day threaten us all. I suppose Alder does.”

  “How old is your father then, if he is aged more than Alder?”

  “He is one hundred and thirty three years old. We celebrated his birthday a few months ago, with lots of vol as usual, and a stew of our best five pomp-hens for all the camp.”

  Ben was stunned. “You’re telling me your father is one hundred and thirty three years old? And each year is twelve months, or fifty two weeks here?”

  “Yes of course,” Eva said bluntly.

  Ben hardly dared ask his next question. “So how many years old are you then Eva?”

  Eva flushed lightly. “I will celebrate my own birthday in a few days. I will be thirteen years old.”

  Ben sighed in relief, although he did wonder why there was such a long gap between Eva and her fathers’ age.

  They finished cleaning the pomp-hen hutch, and climbed their usual hill to look at the glow of the lake and the water birds waking up.

  “Perhaps it’s my company and learning about my strange world, but I’ve noticed you look a little crinkled today Eva,” Ben said with a slight grin.

  Eva whacked him on his sore arm with one of her boots.

  In spite of Ben’s frequent worries about returning to his own world, he began to enjoy his time with the Peregrine farmers. He wanted to find a way home to his family, Hulstead College and his real life, but the sunny autumn days he spent with Eva felt like a secretly stolen summer holiday away from the cold, damp and scary place he had come from. It would have been easy for him to stay there, forgetting his worries and never becoming wisecrinkled.

  A few days later the camp celebrated Eva’s 13th birthday. There was more vol than Ben could ever have imagined, wheeled out in enormous wooden casks cut from tree trunks, and Appleby must have slaughtered half his digboks for the stew, which was cooked in an enormous, battered tin cauldron belonging to Alder.

  Even the wilderness herdsmen who only brought their animals down from the high hillsides to the west and to the south of the lake for special occasions attended, and Appleby and Eva were honoured.

  As the eating of the gigantic stew concluded, some of the group began singing songs and playing instruments, and many began to dance merrily, vol mugs in hand. Ben remained on the sidelines with some of the warriors, happy to watch quietly.

  One of the men from the hillsides outside the camp came and sat beside Ben, bringing a large mug of vol for him. “So, Silverstone is what they call you?”

  “Yes that’s right, pleased to meet you,” Ben answered uneasily. He wasn’t sure what it was about the man that was making his chest begin to ache. He was darkly skinned, but his eyes were bright grey. His clothes seemed a little richer than the other farmers.

  “I am Geven.” The man gave a smirk that made Ben look away. “Alder says you are visiting from the lands of Elmer. What news does he send of the struggles of the mages? And please, remind me how the great fountain of Queen Lorelane looks, it has been years since I last saw it.”

  Ben was almost certain Geven did not believe Alder’s story about where he’d come from. He considered his reply carefully. “Well, the mages struggle quietly in the shadows as they always do, until one has the upper hand. As for the fountain, I cannot find the words to describe it.” He smiled as best he could, unable to hold Geven’s gaze for more than an instant.

  At that moment, the music paused, and Ben looked up to see a circle had formed, in the centre of which stood Liam, holding Eva’s hand. She grinned widely.

  “As is custom at the 13th birthday of a young lady of the camp, a man of standing should perform the dance of Alin and Ria with her.” Liam said.

  The crowd cheered their approval.

  “I claim this dance, unless there is anyone who wishes to challenge me for it?”

  The people glanced at one another, joking and laughing.

  Ben blushed and stared at the ground.

  “She is beautiful, isn’t she Silverstone,” Geven whispered. “The dance is a great honour. But I think she looks toward you my friend. Perhaps she would prefer your hand to Liam’s, if you would challenge him?”

  Ben looked up. Eva must have turned away again. She seemed happy. He felt his chest again. A panic began to rise, as the moment seemed to hang in front of him. Something was calling him to stand up; to seize the dance with Eva.

  But he was also terrified of what might happen next. He didn’t even know the dance of Alin and Ria, and would probably fall flat on his face, humiliating himself. He also had no idea what the challenge for it would consist of – for all he knew he might very well find himself in a duel to the death with Liam. Besides, he thought as he stole another look towards Eva, it looked like she was fine without him. No, he had made up his mind. He would stay where he was.

  “Shame,” Geven muttered, seeing Ben had made up his mind. “They say the dance often leads to love.”

  “I don’t want to dance, OK?” Ben said irritably, and a little louder than he had intended, so that some of the farmers nearby turned towards him. He blushed again and lowered his head. This was terrible.

  Geven grinned.

  The music began, and the c
rowd cheered as Liam spun Eva into the dance. The farmspeople laughed and clapped along, and some other couples joined Liam and Eva.

  Ben looked down at his feet, feeling awful. For the first time since he had arrived through the pool, he felt lonely. His chest hurt, and he stood up and walked outside the shelter.

  He wandered away from the party towards the lake shore. The moon hung low, creating a silver blaze on the mist covered waters. Someone was by the lake staring up at the sky, and as Ben approached, the man turned. It was Alder.

  “Good evening Silverstone. I trust you are enjoying Eva’s party?”

  “Not really, to be honest.”

  Alder looked at him and smiled. “I’m sorry to hear that my friend. But do not worry. Look at the lake, glowing there under the light of the moon. Its waters are so still tonight. Maybe that is why the moon dares come so close and risk being swallowed.” He chuckled to himself

  The lake was beautiful. But all Ben could think about was the dance, and the anger he felt.

  “Who is Geven anyway? I don’t like him much.”

  “Geven is just a hill herder. He travels far south down to the foothills of the Sanan ranges with his herd. But do not worry about Geven now. This view is more important.”

  Ben ignored him. “I don’t belong here. I need to find a way home. I’m going to leave. Tomorrow”.

  Alder did not look at him. “You have stayed with us longer than I could have hoped for, but every day I hoped you would stay a little more.” He stared at the moon for a while silently.

  He turned to Ben. “But I understand. You are one of us, Silverstone, but you are also not one of us. The safest way is to seek the counsel of The King at Norchand. But if you truly wish to find a mage, then The Blue Lady, brother of the magician Evander, is where you should start. The way is easy to the northeast over the Drumald ridge, but watch always for bandits in these parts and especially in the wooded foothills. From the ridge, follow the path down to the Bitter Falls in the valley beyond, where she can be found each day.”

  “Thank you Alder. For looking after me when I arrived, and welcoming me into your camp like a friend.” Ben managed to smile at the old man.

  “You are a friend, Silverstone. Good luck. And please, do not trust any mages.” Alder’s eyes hardened for a moment, and then he broke into a smile again, and turned Ben back toward the shelter with him. They walked back into the party.

  Ben hardly spoke to Eva that evening except to wish her a happy birthday with the rest of the line of well wishers. He held her hands in his as everyone else seemed to do, and looked hopefully for a glimmer of something he did not know in her soft eyes.

  She smiled at him, but Ben thought it was the same smile as for everyone else.

  He lingered beside Ivor, listening to the stories becoming wilder and wilder as he drank more vol, but thinking only of his home.

  Finally Ivor fell asleep mid-story, and Ben slipped off from the remaining party. He patted Ivor gently on the back as he walked out, but the man was so drunk the tent could have fallen on his head at that moment and he wouldn’t have woken.

  Ben found his way back to Appleby’s tent, and into his sleeping mat.

  The next morning, Ben was up before dawn, and silently collected the few things he had been given by Alder, Appleby, and the others into a sling bag that Lea had made for him. He found his swimming goggles, which he thought might prove useful if he needed to swim back through a portal, and reminded him of home anyway. He also took a small supply of apples, bread, and smoked fish from Appleby’s store at the side of the tent.

  Appleby was already awake and Ben could hear him outside, but Eva lay sleeping in her mat. Ben glanced at her for a moment, wondering if he should wake her. The ache in his chest began again as he thought through what he would say, and considered what her reaction might be and ruled out each possibility one by one in his head. Finally he snuck out of the tent.

  Appleby turned, and stood waiting for Ben. “Eva will not be happy about this.” He smiled.

  A part of Ben hoped that was true. Another piece hoped she forgot him quickly. He tried for a moment to imagine her reaction to the news of his departure.

  Finally Ben returned the smile. “I need to get home. You have been very kind to me Appleby, and if you ever find yourself in…” He trailed off. “I can’t ever hope to repay you.”

  Appleby shook his head. “There is no need whatsoever. You are a citizen of Norchand, and now a good friend of the Peregrine croppers besides!”

  He sighed, propping himself on his spade for a moment of contemplation. “You know, there is all this talk nowadays of the future being a dark place what with all these mages about. But I always say the future comes and goes, and we’ll struggle through it together with friends somehow, just as we have the past. I doubt we simple farmers have taught you much to take back to learned King Elmer, Silverstone, but I hope we’ve taught you at least that friends can be found far from home.”

  Ben smiled widely, and they embraced. Then he turned away, and walked quietly out of the camp to the northeast, towards the Drumald ridge.

  END OF