Praise for “The Key to Freedom”
“I love your characters, story and narrative style - beautiful and accessible, a sheer delight! Someone must publish it.”
Freda Kelsall – Author, TV writer (How We Used To Live, Emmerdale, Heartbeat), Director, Screenwriter, playwright, and acting coach to Colin Firth.
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The Key To Freedom
Kathryn Webster
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Copyright 2012 Kathryn Webster
Smashwords Edition
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Smashwords Edition, Licence Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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For more information please go to my author profile at http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/KathrynWebster
Chapter One
The day started as many others. Mikhel had no premonition that anything bad was going to happen. Perhaps if he had paid attention to his mother’s warnings nothing would have happened.
He got up that morning as usual, out of the cabin bed on the edge of the one-roomed house they lived in. He quickly pulled on his woollen trousers and tunic – wool was of course good to keep warm, but also the only way of making clothes in Arrima-Leth, the country where he lived.
His pretty blue-eyed sister Maria was already up, preparing breakfast. His father was already out on the lake catching the day’s fish. After eating, Mikhel stood up, stretched, and walked to the door. He put on his long wool cloak, and went out to find his friend Caleb to get ready to do their part in the day’s work. Together they hitched the donkey up to the old cart, and ambled down to the lakeshore. Maria and their mother Valita by this time were already there, along with Caleb’s mother, Joella and his younger brother, Sami. Caleb was munching the end of a loaf of bread. They all sat and waited, enjoying the weak sunshine, as they watched the boat strain towards the shore, weighed down with fish, Sharen, Caleb’s father and Arman, Mikhel’s father, pulling at the oars.
Finally the two men were close enough; Caleb and Mikhel waded in and helped pull the boat up onto the pebbled shore. All set to work, sorting the fish, putting the good ones into baskets. When these were full they were loaded onto the cart. Three baskets was today’s load, and the donkey, Mikhel and Caleb set off along the lakeside path to the town.
This was usually a pleasant walk, and today was no exception. The odour of fresh fish overpowered other more subtle smells, but the sky was blue, and the sun was beaming down cool rays. Small white clouds hurried along, high in the heavens. The lake lapped gently on the pebbled beach. By the wayside snowdrops were in abundance, though these were looking worn with age; the crocuses were in full flower, lilac and golden. The many fingers of the gorse bushes were tipped with yellow; the daffodils yet remained full of promise.
Bonn the donkey plodded along, the cart creaking and rolling reluctantly behind her. The boys walked; there would have been room for at least one to ride, but neither liked the lurching movement of the cart, and besides, Bonn was getting old now, they didn’t want to burden her unnecessarily. Caleb took a biscuit out of his pocket and crunched it as they walked.
A mile along, the path turned away from the lakeside and followed a stream up the gentle valley. The stream wound, snake like, up the flat valley bottom. The path crossed through the stream many times before bearing off to the left up a small hill. In places the ground was boggy, and the fords were deep, the snow just recently having melted. Then up and over the hill they went, and dropped down into the small town of Muna that nestled at the far side.
They went straight to the crowded market place, and in no time at all the fish were selling. Many people came to buy; others just came to talk with the two friendly boys. Caleb, the older of the two, who was seventeen, was engaged to be married to Maria, and some people talked with Caleb about his forthcoming wedding, especially the young girls, wondering if they would be chosen as bridesmaid for Maria. Caleb always had time for the little children; whenever there was a quiet spell, he would lift one of the children onto his knee and tell them stories.
A short, middle aged man with a balding head approached them.
“What would you like, sir? A nice bit of trout, or perch?” asked Mikhel. “The trout is particularly good today.”
“Nothing, young man. You should have left well alone yesterday. Interfering in the King’s business, that’s not on, you should keep right out.”
“You mean that I should just have left that baby to die?”
“It’s up to the King what his Guards do, not for us to interfere. It’s His right.”
Mikhel looked ready to hit the man, but Caleb urged him just to leave it. The man turned and left, muttering under his breath.
“What was all that about?” asked Caleb.
Mikhel looked at once proud of himself, and sheepish.
“I hope I didn’t do the wrong thing,” he started. “Ma always says it’s best not to interfere with anything the Royal Guards are doing, but I couldn’t just stand by.”
“But what did you do? Start from the beginning.”
Mikhel took a deep breath and began. “I went out to check on the sheep, and old Demré had wandered away from the flock. So I had to go right over the hill, calling after her. Soon I was not far from Muna, and from above I could see dust rising on the road at the far side of town. It was the Royal Guards entering the town”.
“I crept down the hill towards town, and before long I could see smoke rising. When I got nearer, I could see that it was Sarella’s house that was burning, you know, the young woman whose husband left her to raise their five children herself.”
Caleb nodded; he knew the story.
“So I ran down, and saw what was happening. Eight of the Royal Guards were standing round; one of them held Sarella who was screaming and crying. Someone told me that it was because her youngest child was still in the burning cabin. They wouldn’t let her, nor any of the people nearby go in to rescue it. They hadn’t seen me yet at the back of the small crowd, so I ran round the back of the house, and climbed in the window. I got down low because there was less smoke there, grabbed the screaming baby, and got out again the way I came in. The fire hadn’t taken hold properly yet, so it wasn’t too hard, anyone could have done it.
“However, the Royal Guards - they saw me and chased me, so I ran and hid in the wood behind until all was quiet, still with the baby. I had trouble keeping her quiet when the Guards were near. In fact I was scared of suffocating her, cause I had to cover her mouth to stop her screaming. I crept back to town about an hour later, found Sarella at her neighbour’s house, with the other children. She was sitting there in silence and started crying when she saw me with the baby. She couldn’t stop thanking me when I handed her the little one. She said that they had burnt the house down because she hadn’t been able to pay her taxes since Maron left her.
“I didn’t dare tell Ma and Pa, Ma would worry too much that it will get our family into trouble with the Royal Guards, but I don’t think that they knew who I was. Anyway, even if they did, I couldn’t go leaving that little child to burn to death.”
Caleb looked concerned. “I’m sure you felt that you had to do that, but I’m worried Mikhel, what will happen if they find out who you are?”
“They’ll only find out if someone tells them, and no-one would do that. Would they?”
*****
They had nearly sold out of fish when Sarella’s neighbour came up to Mikhel. In hushed tones he echoed the thanks of Sarella, and told him that she was leaving the town to stay with her cousin somewhere in the South of the land.
“I’m pleased Sarella’s got somewhere to go,” said Caleb, after the man had gone,
“Yes,” said Mikhel, “but I hope that she can get there. She won’t have a licence to travel, and if she’s caught she’ll be in even worse trouble.”
“There really are many pointless laws in this country,” Caleb replied. “But maybe she will be able to get a licence; she just needs to say where she’s going.”
*****
The sun was high in the sky by the time all the fish were sold. Caleb looked worried about all that had been said that day, and wanted to get away back home as quickly as possible. Mikhel brushed his concerns aside, and insisted they went and visited their friend Mekiesh, the blacksmith’s apprentice. Mikhel quickly persuaded Mekiesh to take a break from work and the three of them fooled around, using the cart to give each other rides while Bonn munched the grass.
*****
“Maria!” Valita called out the window, “lunch is ready”. Maria left the vegetable garden, went to the washhouse to clean her filthy hands, and joined her mother and father for the bowl of broth.
“Mikhel not back yet?” grunted Arman.
“I thought he’d be back by now, but his broth will keep.”
All was quiet while Valita served the steamy, thick soup into the earthenware bowl.
“What’s that noise?” asked Valita.
Maria listened, and could hear a quiet thump, thump, steady, regular, getting louder. Arman stood up cautiously. The noise stopped and a loud knock was heard at the door. “Open up for the Royal Guards!”
“They must be here for the taxes,” said Valita. She looked out the window. “But there are an awful lot of them for that.”
Valita went to open the door, while Arman fished a small bag of coins out of the jar by the fire. Four men came inside, while another twenty or so waited outside. They were offered seats but did not take them, preferring instead to walk around the cabin, looking around, peering into cupboards and bedchambers. The first, a short red-faced man, the redness exacerbated by the crimson of his uniform, demanded the taxes. Arman opened the small bag, tipped the large, dirty silver coins onto the table and counted out thirty, leaving just a few behind. “There you are, sir, thirty creda”.
Mikhel and Caleb would usually get about three creda for selling a day’s catch at the market, perhaps four on a good day.
“Thirty!” mocked the red-faced man.
“Taxes have gone up to forty five a month now”, sniggered the second soldier, this one a little taller with a full beard and a crooked nose.
Valita and Arman knew better than to disobey, but they knew that they didn’t have that much. They looked at each other in despair. The red-faced man cast his beady eyes around the room, looking for something of value.
*****
Mekiesh ran back to the forge, apprehensive of the blacksmith’s reaction to his two-hour disappearance, while Caleb and Mikhel once more hitched up the donkey to the cart and set off back. Mikhel was light hearted, and was singing, but Caleb’s worry returned to him as they walked along. He quickened his pace, and urged his friend on.
*****
Valita and Arman had found nine more coins, but they knew they had no more. Valita asked the men to come back next month and they would find the rest for them.
“No need for it, my sweetheart, I can see what we can take instead” crooned the red-faced man nastily, his eyes bearing down on Maria. Maria looked up at the man, fear filling her blue eyes. She turned to her father. Arman quickly stepped in front of Maria.
“You’re not having her. We’ll have the money for you by next month.”
“She’s not for me, understand, but for the King. He likes his pretty slaves.”
The two Guards who had remained silent up until now marched over and grabbed Arman, pulling him out of the way. Maria pushed back her chair and moved away to the back of the room. There was no way out here. The soldier walked menacingly towards her. Arman struggled in the arms of his captors.
Maria ran straight towards the soldier, then dodged him and reached the open door. At this moment Arman broke loose. Maria ran outside, straight into the other Guards who were waiting just near the door; one of them grabbed her and slung her onto his horse. Her father was close behind but one of the ready troop outside shot an arrow deep into his chest. Arman fell backwards into the doorway. The four Guards inside leapt over him, one of them kicking him as he passed; they jumped onto their horses, and galloped off, Maria screaming until the soldier bearing her on his horse clamped his hairy hand over her mouth.
*****
It was to this scene that Mikhel and Caleb returned: Valita weeping over her husband’s still body, and the screams of Maria still ringing in the air. A few words from Valita were all they needed to understand what had happened, and both set off at a sprint east along the lake, after the Guards. But boys on foot, swift as they may be, are no match in speed for Guards on horseback. The futility of their chase did not halt them however, until weariness took its toll. As they reached the place where the river emptied into the lake, all signs of their enemies lost, Caleb and Mikhel slowed to a halt, clung to each other, and sank down onto the bank of the lake weeping bitterly.
Chapter Two
With hearts of lead, Mikhel and Caleb trudged back along the lake. They had come some six miles in their pursuit, and now had to return the same way.
“If only we had returned sooner,” Mikhel bemoaned, “It’s my fault, I held us back.”
Caleb had no reply. His thoughts were on Maria. He was praying, although he knew not to whom. He felt as though his heart had been wrenched out. Tears continued to fall down his cheeks, marking a line in the dirt that covered his face since he had lain down in his despair.
Mikhel felt numb. He knew he was to blame; he could have saved his sister and his father. He dreaded going back home, to the mourning and to the sorrow. It would be an empty house.
They got slower and slower; Caleb was dragging his feet, and stumbled several times over roots, for this part of the shore line was heavily wooded. Night was falling, but their hearts were already black. It was fully dark by the time they reached the cabins. Caleb, after promising to come back round, walked on to his cabin, and Mikhel walked up to his door. He paused, fearful. Taking a deep breath, he slowly turned the door handle, and stepped into the room, his head bowed.
“What did you do, Mikhel?” sobbed his mother. “What did you do that they punished us like this!?”
“I’m sorry Ma. It’s my fault.” Mikhel was crying too. “I stopped the Guards from killing a baby. I got us into this trouble. I’ll do whatever I can to put things right. I’ll rescue Maria. I’ll look after you now Da’s gone.”
Valita smiled for the first time. “Your Da’s not dead, honey. He’s badly injured, but may recover. But you’re right; it’s your job to get your sister back.”
Mikhel lifted his head and looked around for the first time. A woman from the town was there, by Arman’s bedside, and was spoon-feeding him a steaming liquid. The woman was one known for her skills in healing, her knowledge of local herbs and roots was great, and she had healed many a sick person with her potions and brews. Mikhel stepped closer, and gazed at his father’s face. He was pale, but most certainly not dead. Arman moved his lips,
“I’ll be all right, son ... I’ll have to be ... I must get her back”. His voice was rasping, wheezy.
“You will do no such thing, sir,” said the woman, “it’ll take a long time to heal this wound. You’ll kill yourself if you run off fighting”.
“Don’t worry Da, I’ll rescue her. Ma and I have already decided that.”
“And I will too”, said Caleb who had just walked in through the door. He had heard that Arman was still alive, and had come straight back. “Let’s go now”.
“Not yet boys, there is no point setting out unprepared, with nothing but the clothes you are wearing.” Valita stood up, and took a hand each, tears still falling down her cheeks. “I know you will find her.” She squeezed their hands but could say no more. Mikhel felt the tears well up inside of him, and let them flow.
*****
Those who managed to sleep that night awoke early the next morning. Valita set to cooking immediately, to make food for the beginning of their journey. Caleb’s mother came to help and they worked together, making everything they knew that would last. They made biscuits, and sealed many foodstuffs in jars, and got together as much salted meat as they had. Two backpacks were found, and the boys packed what they needed: a spare change of clothes, blankets, a tinder box, a little soap, rope, water carriers. They went back to the town and bought a few things, dried fruit and nuts, a new pair of leather boots for Mikhel. Mikhel’s family had to borrow the money from Sharen for these, as they had very little left. They told a few of the townspeople what had happened, most were quietly sympathetic, but Mikhel fought with one man who seemed to think it an honour for Maria to be taken to be the King’s slave.
When night began to draw in, the two families sat down together in the cabin, to eat and talk. Arman was lying on the bed, working hard to catch his breath. He had slept throughout much of the day’s labour, but was alert now. He had taken a little soup, and more of the herbal potion left by the woman.
“Why did they take Maria?” Caleb’s mother, Joella, asked. “Did they give a reason?”
“We didn’t have enough to pay the taxes with the increase – they wanted forty five and we only had thirty nine,” answered Valita.
Joella and Sharen looked surprised. “They came to us just before you, and demanded only the usual thirty creda. Why would they change this just for you?”
All fell silent, until Mikhel spoke in a faltering voice, “I think they wanted to punish me.” He told his story of the rescue of the child.
“So you see, it’s my fault, the blame is all mine. I shouldn’t have interfered. So it’s up to me to get her back.”
“No Mikhel, you did what you had to do,” Joella spoke earnestly, “Mikhel, it may be true that they wished to punish you,” said Joella. “And I think also that it must be you who tries to rescue Maria, but not because it is your fault, but because she is your sister. We live in wicked times, where good is punished, and evil rewarded. But don’t let this stop you from doing good.You did the right thing by rescuing the child, don’t regret that. Always do what you know to be right, even if you must bear the consequences. I am sure that there will come a time when justice will prevail, when wickedness will be punished. I only hope that I live to see that day.”
Mikhel gave her a half smile.
Sharen turned to more practical matters. “Mikhel, it does make sense for you to go. But do you know where you are going?”
“I guess that they will have taken her to Jaela. Sharen, can you tell me how to find it? I know we need to go north east of here, but apart from that, I don’t have a clue.”
Sharen sat and looked thoughtful for a minute or two. The others waited patiently.
“The quickest and simplest way is to follow the path to the edge of the lake, to where you said you pursued Maria’s captors,” he said. “From there you can see the mountain range that separates us from Jaela. There is a pass north east which leads directly to Jaela on the road. But I must warn you, that road is often used by the Royal Guards, and the pass is guarded. Travellers would arouse suspicion, and you will have no licence to travel.The highest of the mountains only continue another thirty or forty miles south, I suggest you go round them. It will be much further, but safer I think. However, I myself have ventured no further than this, and so I have no way of telling you what you might come across. Have you had any thoughts yet on how you will rescue her when you reach the palace?”
“I don’t know, Father,” said Caleb as Mikhel shook his head, “we have made no plans yet. We have no idea what Jaela is like.Until we know what we are facing, we can plan no more. I guess that we will have to decide when we get there. To be honest, I can’t think of any way we can beat armies of men to get her. But I can’t stay around here and do nothing. I’ve got to do something, but I’ve no idea what. Can you can suggest anything?”
“No, I know as little of Jaela as you. But I have one thing that may help you. My dear son, I have a gift for you. You may face great danger, and I don’t want you to have to face it unarmed”.
Sharen went to the door, and from behind his cloak that hung there he brought out a long sword in an ornate sheath. He drew the sword, and everyone gasped. It caught the dancing light from the fire, and gleamed as if gold. The hilt was encrusted with many fine gemstones.
“This, Caleb, has been passed down through many generations. My father told me that a long time ago, one of our ancestors was one of the greatest warriors and right hand man of the last of the Kings of old. But before you take it, Caleb, are you aware of the great danger this also puts you in, if you are ever found with it?”
“Yes, Father, I know that only the Royal Guards are allowed to have swords. I will keep it hidden behind my cloak, and will only use it if I must. Though I must admit I would be tempted to show it off, it’s beautiful!”
“Caleb, this is serious. Use it only if you must.”
Caleb took the sword, now serious, and held it as if it might break. “This is wonderful, it really is. But Father, I really don’t know how to use it.”
“I know very little myself, son, but I will show you what I do know before you leave in the morning. Now do you both have enough food?”
Joella and Valita both laughed.
“Caleb put so much food in his pack that he could hardly lift it this afternoon,” said Joella. “We had to take some out.”
Mikhel and Sharen laughed as well. Caleb looked put out.
“Well, I don’t want to go hungry, do I?”
*****
After Caleb and his family had left, Arman whispered, “Valita, I think it’s time to tell Mikhel about the old woman.”
Mikhel looked at his father, then at his mother. “Which old woman?”
“Are you sure this is the time? He’s not yet fifteen.”
Arman nodded.
“Mikhel”, Valita started, hesitantly at first, “on the day of your birth, an old lady came to this cabin as I was nursing you out in the sunshine. I had never seen her before, nor have I since, but she asked to hold you. I gave you to her to hold, because there was something in her air that almost commanded me to trust her.
“She sang to you, Mikhel, and her voice was beautiful. For those few moments, I forgot the pain and troubles of this world, and felt as if I were carried away, towards the sun. I remember the words clearly, though I will not try and sing them, as I could not sing as well as she did:
“‘As the first snowdrop
Or the grey before dawn
Gleams
the faint hope
This day he is born.
Mikhel, babe
Keeper of
this key
Seek out the Word
Set your people free’
“Mikhel, this means you have a destiny to fulfil in your life. I don’t know what it is, or when it is to be. But the old lady put this key around your neck, tiny as you were, then seemed to just vanish.”
Valita lifted an old, heavy, tarnished key, which hung round her neck on a leather cord, over her head and handed it to her son. “I have no idea which door it opens, or how this will set our people free, but take it, and guard it well. I have kept it safe for you until now. Your father is right, I am sure that now is the right time to give it to you. It may be that in rescuing your sister, you will be able to do something even greater.”
Mikhel fingered the key, still warm from his mother’s body heat. He lifted the cord over his head and stood up. Then he bent over and kissed his mother’s upturned face.
“I’m going to miss you Ma, I hope I will come back to you.”
Valita smiled. Mikhel walked over to Arman’s bed and kissed his forehead. “You will be strong again soon, Da. But until you are, don’t worry, Sharen and Joella will take care of you and Ma. And I will bring back Maria, I swear it.”
Trying to hold back the tears in his eyes, Mikhel went to his bed, changed quickly and lay down. He mused over the song until he fell asleep, still thinking of what it must mean.
Chapter Three
Before the first light of dawn Caleb arose. After a short lesson from his father on how to use his sword, he breakfasted quietly; and as the sky outside was glowing scarlet and amber he put on his boots, cloak, sword and pack and walked with his parents silently to Mikhel’s cabin. There they found him ready to go. As they said their goodbyes, more than one person found themselves wiping their eyes.
They set off east along the lake shore, silent, their feet marching in time with one another. Sorrow hung heavily on their hearts. The day was brightening, clear and fresh. The lake on their right shone with the gentle blue colour of the sky. To their left the dense wood came right up to the edge of the path, sometimes creeping onto it.It was still bitterly cold; the sun had not yet had a chance to warm the air. On and on they walked, the desperation of the last journey this way still fresh in their minds.
They reached the end of the lake, and sat on the grassy bank where they had given up their pursuit two days before. They considered the next step as the river swirled into the lake. Throughout other months it danced along the rocky river bed, merely one foot deep, but in spring it swelled to as much as four times its height, as the melting snow in the mountains to the east fed it. On the left bank of the river ran the path, following it for a while, then as the valley got deeper it climbed steadily up the hill. The trees were sparser here, and most of them still without foliage. Further on, the sun hung over the mountain tops, gleaming white. Hills barred the view to the north. Here the lake was narrow; on the southern shore lay more pine forest.
Mikhel and Caleb discussed what they should do. They knew that they needed to head south, thus crossing the river at some point. There was no bridge that they had ever heard about.
“It is a while yet before we have to cross,” said Caleb, “let us keep on the path until we are forced to leave it. Just the very thought of wading through that water chills my bones.”
Mikhel agreed, and they stood up, hoisted their packs upon their backs and set off once more. As they had seen, three miles up, the track bore off to the left. The water swirled menacingly still, so they kept on with the track. Up they climbed. The river to their right was fast becoming a deep gorge, and soon the path took an even more northerly direction.
“This is taking us too far out of our way,” said Mikhel. “This path continues north as far as I can see. We must go back and cross the river.”
Caleb was less sure. “I think you are right, we can’t carry on with the path. But perhaps we should go straight ahead, along the top of the gorge. Maybe even the river will be shallower further up and the banks less steep.”
So eastwards they continued, along the edge of the gorge, the bright sun dazzling their eyes now, wherever there was no shade from the trees. On and on they climbed upwards, the cleft beside them ever deepening. They walked a little way from the edge, since some parts looked like they would crumble away easily, as if it were only moss that held them together. The boys began to talk more easily now; a sense of adventure was rising from deep within them.
They kept on marching like this for many hours, the wind growing stronger. The once blue sky was now covered with scurrying clouds; more ominous looking ones were approaching with steady speed. They were walking into the wind, which became stronger and stronger, until they were making little progress for their efforts. Eventually they found a little shelter behind a large rock. It was positioned near to the cliff edge. On the other side of it was a huge tree, giving them some protection from the rain they felt was sure to come.
They ate for the first time since setting out, salted meat, bread, a little fish and fresh fruit. It was pointless trying to light a fire; the wind would blow it out immediately. There they sat as it grew dark, huddled close to each other, telling old tales to pass the time until they finally fell asleep in the darkness, the wind whistling its mournful tune.
The boys knew very little of the geography of their country, but the mountains ahead of them were the main divide between east and west of Arrima-Leth. They ran from north to south. On the west were rolling hills guarding lakes and rivers full of fish. The eastern side was flatter; rich, fertile earth made farming profitable. The Great Ocean set Arrima-Leth’s eastern limits, the rocky shores housed many small fishing villages. To the north and west was a vast savannah, populated mainly by lions and nomadic people. A long, guarded wall kept the border, ostensibly to keep out the lions, but also to prevent the people of Arrima-Leth from leaving. To the south, guarded by a high chain of mountains, lay Thena, a mountainous land filled with deep, lush valleys, whose fair-skinned inhabitants lived in freedom.
It was said that once upon a time Arrima-Leth was also free, long ago, not as it was now, with learning, books, music and religion outlawed. King Sambur was wicked, as was his father, and his father before him, as far back as people could remember. He ruled with tyranny, demanding high taxes to keep his magnificent palace. Captured slaves, both Arrimeans and those captured from the western savannah-lands served him in the palace. Many others worked the King’s fields east of Jaela, growing fruits, wheat and barley.
Mikhel was dreaming of chasing sheep back at home, when he felt a hand grip his shoulder, shaking him. “Wake up, wake up,” he heard. Thinking it was his mother’s voice he sat up quickly. Remembering where he was he looked around. There was no one to be seen, except Caleb, asleep by his side. The wind was as strong as ever. Yet even over the howling of the gale he heard a creaking noise. The tree that they were sheltering under was groaning, moving from side to side. With a jolt Mikhel realised that it was going to fall. He shook Caleb, but he was stirring too slowly. He grabbed hold of him and rolled him over fast, just in time, out of the way of the tree. It crashed down just where they had been lying.
Very shaken, the friends gazed at the shadowy scene that had so nearly wrought their death. Just below the base of the thick trunk was now where Caleb’s head had been resting just a moment before. From here it lay at an angle to the huge rock, squashing their packs. Caleb got down on his knees and felt around to try and remove them. He pulled his out easily, but Mikhel’s was trapped, as were the blankets that they had been wrapped in. Mikhel tried to pull his pack away, but to no avail. He succeeded however in rescuing one of the blankets.
“Don’t worry,” said Caleb, “leave it until the morning. We will be able to see more clearly what we can do then, and perhaps the wind will have died down a little.”
They sat on the fallen tree, as the area behind the large rock was still the most sheltered spot. Sleep was beyond them, so they wrapped the blanket around them and awaited the morning. Dawn was in fact near at hand, and in the hour or so that they waited, the wind, thinking that it had achieved its purpose, died down considerably. With the first grey light to see by they set to work releasing Mikhel’s belongings. They could not dislodge the trunk, and began to despair, when Mikhel thought to remove the contents of the pack. This done, it finally it was small enough to ease out from under the tree as the light grew.
As Mikhel started to repack, Caleb gave a gasp. “It may have tried to kill us, Mikhel, but look! The tree is our bridge!” It was true. The tall tree bridged right across the narrow chasm of the river.
Miracle as it would seem, crossing the gorge by the fallen tree was no easy feat. It was not very steady, so they secured it by using smaller rocks to wedge it in one place on their side, but even then it tried to roll a little. With packs on their backs, balance was hindered further. But at least the trunk was strong enough to take the weight. Mikhel crossed first, being the lighter of the two, keeping down as low as he could. Once across he secured the other side as best as he could, with stones and his own body weight. Caleb was slower getting across; he was shaking, doing his best not to look down. Just as he was reaching the side, he slipped, and would have fallen, except for Mikhel’s quick hand grasping him. He managed to pull himself to the edge, and lay down recovering his breath.
“I hope this journey does not continue as dangerously as it has started” Caleb said wearily.
“Can you really see it getting any easier?” responded Mikhel, “I think the worst is yet to come. But look on the bright side, what great stories you will have to tell the children in the town when you get back!”
“I can think of easier ways to find stories than this. I am already beginning to wish that we were back at home. But,” he said, hauling himself to his feet, “home will never be home without Maria, so we must go on. Come on, we should be on our way.” He adjusted the pack on his back and set his face to the mountains that seemed to be still as distant as ever.
Chapter Four
Maria could taste the man’s hand clamped over her mouth. He could not have washed in several weeks.Even when she could not taste it, she could smell it, and that smell was repugnant, the odour of stale sweat. She caught sight of her father’s body lying motionless on the ground, before her head was jerked round, and she could no longer look back.Her body was already in pain as they galloped along the lakeside: she had been bundled across the horse and her right hip bore the brunt of the galloping motion. This pain was nothing in comparison to the tears that were falling for her father, lamenting his death in silence. At this point she cared little where she was being taken to, except that she was being carried further and further from home, from the people she knew and loved. She could see the lake lapping below her, then the lake came to an end, and they began to climb upwards, still at a speed Maria had never known before.
At length the thundering of the hooves came to a halt; they were high on a hill, overlooking the now distant lake. She was set down between two of the Guards on a rock looking back towards her home. A young soldier with a pleasant face and a pitying smile pressed a cup of wine into her hand, and placed some bread and a lump of cheese beside her. She sipped at the wine, but could not face eating; her stomach retched at the thought of food, her father’s face still before her in her mind. Looking down upon the valley, she tried to make out her family home, but it was too far.
However, back along the path they had taken, she could see at intervals where the trees allowed, two figures moving quickly. With a start she realised that it must be her brother and her fiancé. They were too far to give any fear to her captors, but in that moment a tiny hope was birthed in her heart; they would come to find her, she knew.
Once the Guards had eaten as much as they wanted, it was time to start again. She was placed with a different soldier this time, and although they tied her hands together, she was allowed to sit astride the horse. Her guard was behind her, his thick arms on each side of her holding the reins. They were no longer fearing pursuit, and so she went on in more comfort, but her tears still fell, streaking her face.
When night fell, they were still riding, and rode for two more hours by the light of the stars. Finally they stopped; to the right of the path, set back ten feet or so in the once more wooded hill, was a lone cabin. She was taken in first, and realised that this was clearly a resting area for the Royal Guards, there were beds as usual along the sides, and more bedding was rolled up in a corner so as to accommodate a larger number if needed. When everyone had entered, food was brought out from a cupboard, mostly biscuits and dried foodstuffs, and shared around. Several bottles of wine were passed around too. Maria had still no appetite, but forced herself to eat a little, knowing that she may well need the strength. The wine was making the men merry, even the two men assigned to guard her in the cabin. As the laughter grew, Maria saw her chance, edged slowly to the door, and slipped out. But drunk as they were, the men realised quickly, and five of them ran to the door. They could see her running up the hill the way in which they had come, and quickly reached her. She was tied this time hand and foot, and carried back to the cabin, and placed on a bed. The red-faced chief got in beside her; she would now have to climb over him to escape, not easy when bound.
Sleep was impossible; the man next to her wheezed and snored. His breath smelt, and the fear of what was to come preyed on her mind. The night seemed to stretch out interminably.
She played over in her mind the things her father had said, the songs he used to sing. One song he sang often came to Maria’s head:
My love, wipe the tears from your eyes
Take my hand and with me
rise
Sing and dance, take the floor
Keep fear locked outside
the door
As she sung under her breath, the pain in her heart seemed to well up, choking her so that no more words would come. She fingered her brooch, a pretty thing with a blue stone that her mother had given her only a few months before. Crying aloud now, her body shaking, until wore out by her sorrow, the tears subsided and she slept.
*****
They set off again early in the morning, and carried on, with a short stop for lunch, until they reached the foot of the mountain pass the next night. Another cabin was to be found here, they had been built at intervals to service the Royal Guards. On the third day, they climbed steadily up the mountain side, the path weaving its way to the pass. They reached the top at midday, but the wind was getting strong now.They needed to get to the next shelter at the far side of the pass, so battled on.
At this side the pass consisted of a path midway up the mountain. To their left was a sheer cliff face, to their right, the ground fell away less sharply. Some of the path was natural, and wide, elsewhere the rock had been hewn where the path grew too narrow. The horses were not happy and were getting jumpy. Stones were falling from the cliff face to their left, but still they persevered. As the path started to head downwards, and the cliff above them softened to a steep hill again, a large boulder tumbled towards them.Some of the Guards raced on, others pulled back, but Maria’s guard just froze. It was heading straight towards them. At the last moment, it hit something, although they could not see what, and diverted away from its course, missing everyone. It hit the ground with such force that the path cracked. Calling his men back together, the red-faced chief gave orders to carry on, and so battling against the wind they descended down to the far side of the mountain.
*****
Two more days of journeying brought them to the city of Jaela. It was nestled in a valley, which they approached from the south. It was evening, and the gentle drizzle that soaked them through made the stone houses seem dreary. A river, the Cameal, ran from west to east, on its way to the Ocean, and by its banks, surrounded with gardens a large palace dominated the town. It was nearly dark when they finally reached the city gates. On entering, Maria was placed in the hands of two city guards dressed in blue, who were ordered to take her to the palace. Maria had to walk now, but as much as her body ached with the days of riding, she was glad to use her legs. They marched her through the dirty streets, past the traders who were closing their stalls now. Some people gave her a curious glance, but most, used to the sight, knew where she was being taken. From time to time she could see pity in their eyes. Fearing what was in store for her, she was marched through the large Town Square and up to the palace gates.
Chapter Five
Onwards the young men trudged. South east they were heading now, heading for the end of the distant mountain range. Where hills and trees allowed, they could see the white crested mountains. Only a few remained to the south, the double peaked Rea Suma, the mighty Rea Calam, the sisters Rea Lamar and Tamar. Many more lay to the north, as the range grew wider.
There were valleys to descend and climb again, but the streams in each were this time fordable, although before an hour had passed both Mikhel and Caleb found their feet squelching in their boots with each step. It was hard going; the valleys all ran from east to west, rarely could they walk on the flat. They both found climbing the valley sides easier, than slipping and tumbling downwards. Their legs had been tired before even starting that day, from the previous day’s marching. But they pressed on. They sheltered that night in a deserted cabin. There were no home comforts within, but at least there were four walls and a roof. They were thankful for this as the rain fell heavily during the night.
Onwards they went the next day.The land was becoming more and more wooded, the open areas becoming more and more sparse. There was no path for them to follow, and so they picked their way between the trees, ever looking towards the sun to assure them of the right direction. It was slow going now, although their legs were fast becoming accustomed to the distances they were walking. Half way through the afternoon, they fell upon a path heading south, and took this. Going much faster now, and with less to concentrate on, they felt more at ease for conversation.
“I would probably be enjoying this expedition if it were not to try and rescue Maria,” Mikhel laughed. “The pine trees smell delicious, and the needles we are walking on make the ground so soft and springy. I think that once we’ve got Maria back safe and sound we should go away and explore more of our country. I don’t think I had ever been much further than the edge of the lake, or the town. In fourteen years!”
“Perhaps we could. But, to be honest, I’d be happy just to settle down, in my own cabin with Maria. And you know we’re not meant to travel. No one really goes very far from where they live, except perhaps the occasional peddler and of course the Royal Guards.”
“I don’t think that even they have been here. It’s so quiet; I can hear only birds above us. The cabin we stayed in last night; that was the only sign of people we have seen in two days. Yet even that was deserted. Maybe no-one except us has walked here for years.”
“There is a path here; that shows that people have been around. We’ll probably meet someone before long.”
“Then I hope that whoever we meet will be friendly.”
Mikhel began to hum, and soon the two of them were singing songs they knew, cautiously at first, then with more heart, feeling sure there was no-one to hear them:
“The wind did blow that day in spring,
The great boat race
was held.
Sat on the banks of the big blue lake
Each who in
Muna dwelled.
Six boats did start the famous race
From the start it was to be
war
Leb and Sima crashed their rafts first
And fell in beside
the shore.
Trisado found a leaking hole
His rival had gored in his
craft.
He used his clothes to plug the breach
And naked he
rowed and laughed.
Berias sank about half way across
And waited, treading
water.
When the next boat came along,
He climbed in and threw
out Melorta.
Chantor had rigged a mast and sail
But the wind was far too
fierce.
He hung on the sheet as it flew in the air
And let go
and fell on Berias.
Trisado made it to the end,
Got out and awaited his
cheer.
Instead all he got were gasps and screams
At the sight
of his naked rear.”
Night was beginning to fall when they noticed an eerie silence. Caleb wanted to find somewhere to sleep for the night, but Mikhel was eager to press on, aware of some danger. The forest shadows added darkness, and made it seem almost night time already, although the sky was not yet fully dark. Suddenly from behind them they heard a distant howl.
“Wolves!” gasped Mikhel, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
They started to quicken their pace. The howl came again, this time nearer, echoed by others. They were running now, faster and faster. Suddenly they noticed an old lady seated on the verge. Their path was crossed by another, narrower and more winding, making a kind of cross-roads. Pausing, Caleb warned the lady of the wolves.
“I know,” she replied, “run fast that way, and you will find safety.” She was pointing to the left-hand path.
“But you must come with us,” Mikhel insisted. “We can’t leave you here.”
“I will be fine, do not worry about me. But make haste. You have little time.”
They ran the direction she showed them. Feeling bad, Caleb looked back. The woman was gone. Again he looked; still there was no sign of her. He started to slow down, then he saw them - three shadowy wolves gaining fast upon them. Sprinting ahead now, they saw a light before them. It was the open door of a cabin. They ran towards it, wishing the packs on their backs did not hold them back so much. The wolves got closer and closer, only a few feet away. Mikhel reached the door first; it was held open by a teenage girl. The wolves were nearly at Caleb’s heels now, after what seemed an eternity he reached the door too, and the girl slammed it shut. The first wolf hurled himself against the large wooden door, but it was too late, they were safe.
Catching their breath, the boys looked around them. The cabin was similar to those they had left behind at home. It was warm and inviting, the candles offering a cosy glow to the room. With the girl who had opened the door for them, was an old, wrinkled man. The girl helped them take the packs off their backs, and showed them to a corner where they could keep them, and hang their cloaks. She was a graceful, petite girl, a little fairer than most of their race, with shoulder length straight black hair.
“We’ve been expecting you,” she said.
Caleb and Mikhel looked at each other in puzzled surprise.
The old man spoke up. “Allow me to introduce us. My name is Olef. This is my granddaughter, Maelin.”
Caleb, still breathless from the run introduced himself and Mikhel, and added, “Thank you ever so much, both of you. You have saved us from the wolves.”
“It was the wolves who brought you to us, Caleb. You would not have come this way otherwise,” said Maelin.
The boys looked at her curiously. “How did you come to be expecting us?” asked Mikhel.
“I will explain, but before we talk, let us eat and drink. You can get to the wash house through this door if you want to freshen up.”
Maelin pointed to a door near to the fire at the rear of the cabin. She then went to the fire where a large pot of delicious smelling food was cooking. Before long the four of them were seated round the table in the centre, while Maelin was serving venison stew into their bowls.
“Before I tell you my tale,” started Olef, “please tell us the reason for which you are travelling. We knew that you were coming, but we do not know your purpose.”
Caleb spoke, and told the story of Maria’s kidnap, and their quest to find and rescue her. The two hosts listened carefully, and questioned him from time to time. When Caleb had finished, Olef began.
“I am afraid to tell you that before you can rescue Maria, you have another task to fulfil.”
“No!” Caleb cried out. “I have to find her as soon as I can. I won’t do anything else until I have found her and she is safe with me!”
“I do not wish to turn you from something so important to you, but you will find it nigh impossible to release her as the country stands now. Even if you succeed, where would you go? You would be hunted down like foxes. No, if you can complete the task you have been chosen to do, then maybe you will be able to see your sweetheart again.”
“So what is this task?” asked Mikhel.
“I must tell you a story first, so that you understand. Many years ago, this country was great. It was ruled by wise and good kings. It was known for its poets, musicians and artists, and the people in general were happy and contented. Learning and wisdom were made possible for many people; there were schools where most children went to learn. And each day, from the market place in Jaela, words were read to all from the Great Book.
“This book contained all the wisdom in the world; it was full of different stories, songs, poems and instructions, all of them illustrating good ways to live, and how to be strong in virtue. The words held power, a subtle but great power. They inspired and strengthened those who listened and meditated upon them. It spoke truth, and inspired princes and commoners alike to seek after truth, goodness and to uphold honour and freedom for all.
“But one man was not happy, nor was he virtuous. He was Prince Tredaz, the brother of the king, King Vodez. He wanted power; he had felt neglected all his life because he was not the eldest, and the one in line to the throne.He supported his brother at first, but after a battle his brother nearly died. As his brother lay ill, Tredaz began to imagine himself in power, as he thought must happen. But Vodez recovered, and Tredaz began to hate him for it.
“One day, a curious man visited him. This man could speak to the evil Kiman, the spirits that have power over some things in this world. He explained that Tredaz could overthrow the king easily if he listened to the Kiman and did what they said. Through the advice of this man, Tredaz found discontented men from the country, for however good a country is, there will always be people who are discontented, who want more money, or power, for themselves. With those that he found he formed an army. He promised them the riches and the best jobs. He also stole and hid the Great Book. King Vodez hunted everywhere for it, but he did not know that it was his brother who had stolen it; his brother was skilled in lying and deceit, and had always outwardly supported the king. After three years, the king and people weaker through no longer hearing the words of truth, Tredaz led his army into Jaela. He seized the throne, and killed King Vodez and all but one of his children. The youngest girl fled from the city and over the mountains under the protection of one of her father’s most trusted Guards. The two of them were never seen again.
“But Tredaz was warned by the Kiman that he would only be able to keep the throne if he kept the people ignorant, for if the people had understanding, eventually they would rise up and defeat him or his descendants. As time went by, Tredaz closed the schools and ordered that all books should be burned. All religion was banned, for it was known to sow the seeds of rebellion in people’s hearts, teaching them to follow God, and not the king. In particular he tried to destroy the Great Book, in the fear that someone may steal it, and use it against him. This task fell to a man named Yeman. Yeman had been a servant of Vodez, but fearful of his life, he swore allegiance to Tredaz. Over the first few months he proved his faithfulness to Tredaz, who entrusted him with destroying the Great Book. But more than he feared Tredaz, Yeman feared the God who had given Arrima-Leth this holy Book. He feigned the burning of it, and fled, carrying his precious burden many days. He locked it away in a chest deep within the Southern Mountains. By now the Kiman had been able to tell the usurper King’s advisor that the book had been saved. The King sent an army searching for Yeman.
“Yeman came to this area, and entrusted his story with a priest, writing down how to find the Book. He left here a few weeks later, and was found months later by the army in the North. He was tortured to reveal the whereabouts of his burden, but died under the torture table without revealing anything.
“The priest to whom he passed on the secret was my great, great, great grandfather, and the story has been passed down the generations to me and to my granddaughter here.”
“So this Book is still hidden, and you know where it is to be found?” Mikhel questioned. “But why does this concern us? And how did you know that we were to come? And why has no one gone to find it before?”
“These are good questions, Mikhel,” said Maelin, “and many of the answers to these are your own story. When the Book was hidden, it was locked in a chest, as you heard my Grandfather say, with a large key. I believe you have this key, Mikhel.”
Mikhel gasped. Then he nodded and pulled the key out from under his clothes. “Would this be the one you mean?”