Читать книгу Hidden Enemies - Steve Reilly - Страница 6

Camille awoke with a start, disoriented. The sun was well into its journey across a clear blue sky. Above her a single buzzard circled and the smell of smoke lingered in the still air. Memories began to fight their way through the fog of waking. She looked down upon the clearing now dominated by two large piles of ash. There was no sign of her mother, her house or the mob that had taken her life away. Her eyes rose toward the town unseen down the road. A hint of breeze passed over her, raising small puffs of ash in the clearing as if her mother were trying rise from the ground, and then the breeze took her away.

Fear submerged grief when she heard the sounds of men talking. Looking out through the leaves Camille could see three men and could hear another behind her. They were searching, prodding the clumps of bush with sticks, looking behind any rock or rise that could hide their quarry. One of the men was Xavier, his red mane shining in the morning light. As they passed, Camille heard part of their conversation.

“She’s long gone,” said one man to Xavier. He was a big man with powerful shoulders that held a balding head, shining in the light. He walked with a slight limp.

“I would expect so,” said Xavier.

“Halfway to the next district, I reckon.”

“Probably.”

“Why’re we wasting time here then?”

“Fire-oath, Thom, we can’t leave her to come back and cause trouble for us now. We put too much time into stirring up the town to have her come back and ruin it. She must die. She is a witch and this land belongs to men who deserve it. The boss won’t accept anything less.”

“But she ain’t here.”

“Do you want me to send you to report back that we’re not going to look any more because you think she’s gone? Just keep looking.”

The men moved out of earshot. They had not seen Camille wrapped in leaves, laying quietly. The words tumbled over each other in her head. So this is why her mother had died, so that someone could make claim to the farm, and she was to be hunted down like an animal so that she could not stop them. Waves of grief crashed over her throughout the day, unchecked tears blurring her vision and thoughts. Night again settled over the farm and Camille still lay huddled in the bush. She could trust no one around the town. At some point the sun had set without her noticing so she crept out from the bush and turned to leave. There was no need to pack or prepare for the journey - she had nothing to take. She turned her back on the two piles of ash and began to walk.

It did not take long before she had left the farm behind. The ploughed fields offered little to slow her progress but little protection from discovery. She stumbled through the night, unthinking and unseeing. The death of her mother had left her drained but she knew that she had to keep walking. She didn’t see the moon as it sailed across the clear night sky, nor the beauty of the stars. With morning approaching, her instincts drove her to seek shelter from searching eyes. She entered a small grove of trees nearby which offered protection. Thinking was too much for her. She slept through the day until, with the sun falling low in the western sky, she prepared to leave.

She stepped out of the trees to begin her night’s walk but the beat of a startled bird flapping its way into the sky beside her made her jump. Its big black wings carried it into the air and when she turned at the sound she saw the riders on horseback coming over the low hill behind her. She quickly ran back to the little hiding place where she had slept and watched. As the riders grew closer Xavier’s red hair became obvious and she could hear his words.

“I saw something move back in here. It could have been the girl. Don’t let her get away.”

Xavier had seen her! She didn’t know what to do. There was not much cover and she could not outrun them. They were going to find her. The men dismounted, leaving their horses at the edge of the trees. They formed a line and began to work their way slowly through the grove, checking everywhere as they passed. She huddled behind the little bush as the line of men approached. One of Xavier’s men was only six feet in front of her. Discovery seemed certain when loud squealing and crashing further up the line distracted him. A large wild boar charged out of the bush and into one of the men. It knocked him down, ripping at the man’s leg with its dirty yellow tusks before charging at the horses. The men ran to intercept it but the boar turned and disappeared out over the open land. Xavier ordered someone to see to the injured man and turned to look back into the trees.

“That must have been what I saw,” he told them after some thought. “Get that leg bound and we’ll move on.”

Camille lay still until the men had disappeared over the next hill before emerging. She waited in the trees for the next hour, eating a meal of wild mulberries before resuming her trek. She was near the top of the hill where she had last seen the men when a raven landed in front of her. She stopped, taking in the beauty of the bird. Its feathers shone a deep blue black, a glistening darkness. The eyes that watched her were big and yellow. She stood transfixed by those eyes. They seemed to look into her. She felt that the bird was trying to warn her. She looked up the hill and decided that caution was preferable to discovery. A group of rocks at the top of the hill would provide cover and a view beyond. She approached as silently as she was able. The light was fading but she could see that Xavier had stopped his men and lined then across the land in front of her. He had obviously thought she had used the trees for shelter and would move again under the cover of dark. She turned back down the hill and began to circle them. Once she felt safely clear she set out as fast as she was able before morning would force her to take cover again.

Over the next days she travelled across open pasture with gentle rolling hills, dotted here and there with pockets of trees. She stayed away from the few roads that wandered aimlessly between the farms, climbing the occasional fence that attempted to bar her way. When the sun began to lighten the eastern sky each day she found a comfortable hollow or bush and crawled in. Visions of her mother defiant in a tower of flame kept returning to her each night. She tried to understand why their friends had turned on them but it made no sense. She would wake disoriented and confused with the sun low in the afternoon sky. Thornberry bushes or other plants and trees provided her with fruit when she needed it. Then, as the darkness began to claim the land, she continued her walk.

During this time she saw Xavier and his men twice more. On each occasion she was able to hide and evade capture among some bulrushes that fought for survival beside a nearly dry creek and in a hollow that was once used to hold water for stock. Then they seemed to lose her, or she lost them, because she did not see them for weeks. There were fewer farms and roads. The low hills were now covered with bush and scrub and groves of dry trees were more common than wheat or barley.

One night as she trekked through thickening scrub she discovered a rarely used narrow trail. A waning moon lit the way. She could see no movement in either direction. Though her instincts still told her to stay away from people, walking along the trail would be easier. Comfort overcame discretion. She stepped out and began to follow the trail. As she travelled north the hills became taller and the farms were left behind. She felt safer with each mile she travelled. She did not know or care how far she had travelled. Walking north was all that mattered.

As night threatened to settle over the land yet again Camille started her trek through a small wooded vale. The moon was peeking over the distant hills when a movement broke the numbness of her mind. A raven stood perched on a low bough in front of her. It watched her with a steady gaze. Camille wondered if it could be the same bird. Time and movement were frozen as she watched the raven. Finally the bird broke the spell when it raised its head and looked back over Camille’s shoulder. It glanced quickly back at Camille before once again looking back down the road. Finally it stood tall, spread its night-dark wings and with one brief squawk leapt from the branch and disappeared into the trees beside the road. Camille looked over her shoulder and, without understanding why, followed the raven into the trees.

Moments later she heard the sound of horses and watched as the group of riders approached, laughing and apparently in good spirits. One man however stood out from the group. He rode in the lead on a dappled grey stallion, his long mass of dirty red hair bouncing in harmony with the gait of the horse. They rode slowly by and disappeared down the road. Camille stood in the trees long after the riders had gone. The monotony had suddenly turned to fear and now the fear receded. Now there was relief. She wondered what drove these men to continue their chase. Movement once again distracted her as the silent black bird landed on a branch beside her. The yellow eyes again seemed to capture her before the raven leapt forward, turned and flew down the road. Camille knew the raven was telling her it was safe to go.

She continued to walk through the night. Something had changed within her during the trek. She was now aware of everything around her. The riders had again woken her to the dangers she faced, even this far from the place she had known as home. The countryside had changed considerably from the area around Thistledowne. The track wound through an area where the steep hills were littered with rocks and trees. Ahead of her a tall and unforgiving mountain range rose above the land. Even from this distance the peaks looked imposing. Her mother had spoken of these mountains at a time when she was a girl sitting in front of the warm winter fire. The thought of those times brought tears back to her eyes but she roughly wiped them on her sleeve. She remembered her mother telling her that people did not live in those mountains but she could not recall her mother ever giving her a reason. This would be her goal. She would go into the mountains to hide and consider her future.

Each day brought her closer to the mountains. The days and nights were becoming cooler. The small roads and trails were left far behind and there had been no indications of habitation for many days. There had been no sign of Xavier and his men since they had ridden past her so long ago that she had felt it safe enough to begin walking during the day. Camille stood looking up at the white-topped peaks. The mountains grew out of the land, the steep rock faces disappearing into the clouds above. Around her the trees and plants were greener and the grasses looked healthier than the plants of Thistledowne had ever looked. Between her and the mountains stood a line of trees like none she had seen before or even dreamed possible. They stood tall with ample room to walk between the trunks but the canopy closed out the sky above. What made these woods different, as she looked beneath the leaves, were the trunks and branches. They were patterned with every colour imaginable. Many hues of red, green, blue and yellow laced each section of bark and the trees emitted a soft light, giving a magical glow to the air. She stepped beneath the canopy and the air became liquid. Each step felt like walking through deep mud. She forced herself to go on, concentrating on placing one foot in front of the other as her mind fought to overcome the beauty that threatened to engulf her. Inside her head a voice seemed to keep inviting “Join us.”

Resisting with every step she pushed forward and finally reached the far edge of the woods, stepping out into the sun again. With the light, the suffocation of the trees left her and she sat on a rock to rest. The ground before her was littered with rocks of all sizes, harder to cross but insignificant compared to what faced her at the far edge. Stretching as far as she could see in either direction stood a sheer rock wall, its top about sixty feet above her. She could see no way past the barrier but had no desire to go back beneath the trees. She would need to work her way along the cliff until she could find a way into the mountains. Glancing at the sun hanging low in the west, she decided to wait until tomorrow before going on.

Next morning as she stood looking up at the barrier she noticed a bird high in the sky above her. It circled her for three or four turns, then drifted west along the wall on silent wings. She followed because it seemed right and by afternoon she started to notice changes in the face of the cliff. There were more cracks and fissures appearing, with small caves showing at various levels. With the afternoon drawing to an end a familiar shape appeared in the skies above her. The raven circled before flying ahead and returning. The dark bird continued to follow overhead for the next hour before finally alighting on a rock at the base of the cliff. It waited for Camille and only when she noticed the cave behind the rock did the bird spread its wings and, with one mighty thrust, launched itself back into the air.

The cave was tall enough for her to enter without crawling and extended back before angling to the right. It was about thirty feet deep, the floor was fairly level and a few loose rocks were scattered around the inner depths while enough light entered to make movement comfortable and safe. Camille chose an area among the stones as a bed for the night. As the darkness closed around her she lay on the floor and wondered if the raven was telling her that this was her destination. It appeared to be a good place to stay for a while. She had crossed a small stream a short way back that would ensure a supply of fresh water and the colourful trees spreading from the base of the cliff would surely provide for her requirements if she could collect it without being overcome by the power of the shadows. She looked around the cave and thought it was definitely worth considering.

Her eyes opened to find the sun brightening the entrance to her cave but it struck her that something was different. She lay still and allowed her eyes to roam the cave before settling on the entrance. Just outside the cave something sat on the rock where yesterday the raven had stood. She could not make out the silhouette so she lay still, hoping that whatever sat there was only resting and, if she gave it time, it would leave. But after some minutes the shape spoke with a voice that sounded like the deep rumble of distant thunder. “Can come out now. Wait for you.” Camille lay still. It took a few moments before her sleepy brain realised that the rumbling noise was actually speech. Then the rumble came again. “I know you awake.”

Camille watched. The shape had not moved so she climbed to her feet and edged towards the entrance. “I no hurt you,” the voice said. Camille stepped out into the sun. Crouched on the rock was a massive creature. Its head was round and hairless with large eyes and an overly large mouth filled with pointed teeth. The creature’s body was much larger than any man’s and it had long thick arms and short solid legs. Around its waist was tied some sort of animal hide that was hitched between its legs. The hide was obviously well used. But to Camille the overall appearance of the creature was blue, like it had just climbed out of a wine-maker’s barrel.

“Welcome,” said the creature.

“Thank you,” replied Camille. They watched each other in silence for some moments before she continued. “I am Camille.”

“I name Aiyu, son of Yent, son of Avgar, son of Goar.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“Watch you. You walk along Edge yesterday. I see you. No see many humans come mountains.”

“And what sort of creature are you?” she asked.

“No like be called creature. We people auchs.”

“An auch?”

“Auchs live mountains many years.”

“But the auchs are only a myth, tales that parents tell their children to make them go to bed.”

“Do I look like myth?” he grinned. “Auchs no myth. Auchs proud and peaceful people. My family go back many generations. Aiyu son of Yent, son of Avgar, son of Goar, and go back Ngai the Brave.”

“I am sorry but I cannot remember all of your family names.”

“Friends just call Aiyu.”

“How did you see me? Where were you?”

Aiyu simply pointed up.

“Up there?” asked Camille. “What were you doing?”

“Work on farm. Holdbori come speak.”

“Holdbori?” asked Camille. This creature confused her. “Is Holdbori another auch?”

“Holdbori Great Spirit of skies. Come in black clothes. Land on tree. Tell me follow. Bring me to Edge. I see you come and watch. When you sleep, Holdbori tell I come wait for you wake.”

Camille and Aiyu talked on through the early morning. She found it easy to speak to the big blue man. She told him of the attack on her home and the death of her mother. She spoke of her flight from the people of Thistledowne and she told him of the raven and how it had saved her from capture and death. “Holdbori protect you,” Aiyu told her. The auch then sat and pondered for a few minutes.

“Come. It time go.”

“Go where?” asked Camille.

“I take to farm and we talk Bhata.”

“Who is Bhata?” she asked.

Aiyu’s face lit up. “Bhata mate of Aiyu. She strong spirit talker, understand spirits. She tell us what Holdbori want. We go to farm. It no far.”

Camille did not understand why she trusted this big creature but she agreed to go. Aiyu jumped off the rock and set off immediately along the cliff face. He was already well on his way before she reacted and followed him as he set a fast pace over the broken ground. The effort of keeping up prevented any further conversation. The fast pace was difficult. She was forced to stop and think of her route around or over rocks and fallen trees while Aiyu just seemed to step over the obstacles. Soon Camille was forced to stop and call to Aiyu. She explained that she could not walk through this broken ground and keep up; she did not have his strength or speed. After considering the situation for a moment Aiyu announced, “Carry you.” In one flashing movement he leaned down and picked up Camille, slung her over his shoulder and started to walk again. With her head hanging over the back of Aiyu’s shoulder and her legs bouncing on his chest she called to be put down but Aiyu took no notice. She punched him in the back with both fists while continuing to curse him loudly from her indignant position. Aiyu walked for some time, ignoring her screams and punches. They had travelled a good distance before Aiyu turned and walked into a small fissure in the cliff face. He placed her back on the ground and looked at her with a confused expression.

“What are you doing?” she yelled at him.

“Camille say she no walk. I strong so I carry,” he explained.

“I just wanted you to slow down, you big oaf,” she yelled.

Aiyu stood looking at the small human, not understanding her complaints. “No matter,” he said. “We here.”

Camille looked around at the dark rock wall. “Here? Where? I don’t see any farm.”

“No at farm,” he replied. “This way to mountains. Walk easy from here.” He turned and walked deeper into the fissure and in moments he was lost in shadows. She stood and waited, and shortly after he reappeared to ask, “Are you come?”

“I could not see you,” she complained. “I do not know which way to go.”

“You want Aiyu carry?” he asked but the expression on her face told him no. “I help,” he said and held out his massive hand. Camille’s hand was engulfed in his enormous yet gentle fist and with him guiding, she followed the auch into the darkness. The ravine cut deep into the cliff and as her eyes became accustomed to the dark Camille began to make out some of the shapes around her. They seemed to be climbing and the ground under her feet was reasonably clean of obstructions. The trail was about three feet wide, wide enough for a horse or an auch. To her right the rock rose in a vertical wall while on her left the ground was cracked deeper than she cared to think. She could not see the bottom but the sheer rock wall on the other side of the fissure stood about ten feet away. Ahead she could hear the roar of falling water. The two climbed further up the trail, around a bend and onto a rock platform. She stood transfixed by what she saw. They were standing inside a rock shaft stretching from sunlight to the depths of the land below. On the far side of the shaft water cascaded from the world above crashing and bouncing off the rock walls, disappearing into the darkness. Mist and spray shattered the light and sprinkled it over the walls where ferns and moss clung precariously to tiny footholds. Looking up, Camille could see a kaleidoscope of lights reflecting all the colours of the rainbow.

“It’s beautiful,” she said.

Aiyu allowed her only a moment to admire the sight before announcing, “Time to go.” He walked to the far end of the platform. She just wanted to enjoy the beauty of this place. When Camille reluctantly followed she saw a hidden cave in the rock face behind the falls. Aiyu walked into its mouth. The cave was a little taller than Aiyu, about nine feet, and about half as wide. It struck her that the cave was very square. She saw the hammered marks on the wall: this cave was man-made, or at least auch-made. It curved to the right in a shallow climb. After some time she thought that they must have walked at least a full circle, yet still the cave curved upward while her legs burned and she fought for breath. When they finally emerged onto a lush green plain, stretching ahead of her were acres of verdant grassland interspersed with short healthy trees. A small river wound its way out of the valley ahead, cutting a path through the grasses before disappearing into an enormous sink hole about a hundred yards to her left. Below that must be the rock platform, she thought. She saw that this end of the cave was actually a simple stone structure erected to protect the entrance. It consisted of two great slabs of rock on edge while a third slab sat on top forming a roof which sloped from the opening height to ground level at the end furthest from her, fitting the walls so neatly that no joint was visible. The entire structure was covered with intricate carvings of plants and animals.

She turned to ask what the markings meant but Aiyu was striding across the grass and she was forced to run to catch up. They were headed straight towards the valley ahead, tracking closer to the river’s edge as they walked. They had not gone far when Camille saw a lovely cottage nestled amid a grove of willows on the riverbank. She had not seen anything like it before. The home was built on a base of six sides with a steep thatched roof reaching to a central peak which was open and covered by its own roof, allowing a plume of delicate smoke to trail into the sky. The walls were a mixture of black stone and grey timber with open windows for ventilation and light. Shutters sat ready to fit over the openings in times of poor weather. The walls had been brought back under the roof line on the side facing the river, providing a comfortable veranda to sit and relax on the two large chairs it held. In one of these sprawled another large blue auch. “Bhata wait,” Aiyu told her with a broad smile, showing his fierce-looking teeth. As they approached the cottage Camille saw a large six-sided shed hidden among the trees and the gardens spread out along the river. The gardens were packed with vegetables, some of which she recognised, many she had never seen before.

Bhata waited with hands on hips as they approached. To Camille she looked just like Aiyu with her bald head and solid body. She also wore an old hide wrapped around her middle and she gave off a similar aura of blue. The only difference Camille could see at first glance were the small tufts of hair growing from her ears and the leather lace hanging around her neck. A green stone carved in the shape of a tree hung on it. When they reached the steps Bhata held up one hand and pointed at Camille. “What this?” she asked in a grumbling roar.

“I come back,” said Aiyu with a big grin.

“You come back? Bhaa,” she spat. “You go find another stray. That what you do.”

“Bhata, that no fair.”

“You go work garden. I look up. You gone. You come back next day with stray. What no fair?”

“Bhata. Holdbori come. Tell me go to Edge. Tell me find her.”

“Holdbori tell you? Bear-dung. How you know what Holdbori want? You no can talk to spirits.”

“Please,” pleaded Camille, “I do not want to cause trouble. I will go.”

“Stay,” growled Bhata. “No your fault. Men do anything get out work.”