Chapter Three -- The Journey

As the shadow of the woman disappeared into the lean-to, Ryan’s mind was racing. Locat’s violent thoughts had painted a picture of a hostile raid on the farm of a young Locat and his new wife; there was destruction and pain and fighting and the rape of Locat’s young wife, the rape that created that frail Vlern child.  But the soft green eyes of Lyra’s mother, swimming with tears, gave Ryan quite another picture: Locat and his new unwilling wife visited by a band of fierce warriors led by a strong and passionate man with a shock of red hair who demanded that Locat’s wife come with him, only wreaking havoc when Locat refused to allow her to leave.  She was already carrying the Vlern child, Ryan realized, and the father was the red-headed warrior!  Lyra was not the pitiable result of a rape. She was a love child.

 

          As the noise from the lean-to quieted to only Locat’s snores and the occasional cough of a child, the girl crept silently towards the fire and Ryan.  She was only briefly tentative before she snatched the wooden bowl from his hands.  He chuckled softly.

 

          “I will not hurt you, little one.”

 

          She did not pause, stuffing the scraps into her mouth noisily and seeming to ignore his words.  Great pity flooded into Ryan’s heart for this wounded little animal.  He softened his voice further.

 

          “I have made a bargain with Locat, Lyra.  You will come with me -- away from here.”  He cocked his head to try to catch her eye.  Oblivious, Lyra licked the wooden bowl for any remaining morsel, wiped her face on her ragged sleeve, belched heartily, brushed the matted hair from her surprisingly delicate face and fastened two glittering dark blue eyes on Ryan, not moving her lips when he heard her voice in his head, “I know.”

 

          Her words blazed inside him like the fireworks he used see back home on Earth during celebrations.  She would not speak again, and when Ryan tried to probe her, it was if he had walked directly into a stone wall. Her face betrayed no expression, and it was clear that she had learned the hard way to be totally quiet and to dissolve into the background.  For a long time Ryan studied her implacable face; she returned his stare until a monstrous yawn overtook her. Shrugging her shoulders as she turned away from Ryan, she chose a spot close to the fire, dropped to the ground, curled her legs up and pulled the rough shift over her folded body. Obviously, Ryan thought, she’s accustomed to sleeping out here, and he regretted declining the woman’s offer of the blanket.  He guiltily realized that his thermal sleeping bag was large enough for both of them, but he shuddered silently -- let’s bathe the little baggage first.  At least the fire was probably a treat for her, he surmised, assuring himself that just one more night of deprivation would make little difference.  Drawing the sleeping bag from its compartment on his pack, he unfolded it and settled in.  When he nodded off, he was still tingling from her words in his head.

 

          He awoke before light, an insistent bare foot pushing his shoulder roughly.  She bent down and whispered harshly.

 

          “We must go now!”

 

          Groggily Ryan understood that the Vlern girl knew Locat’s habits and nature far better than he, and she probably feared that a night’s sleep might have dulled the brilliance of his bargain.  They must not wait for the light of day.  He nodded to communicate his assent and as quickly and quietly as he could, stuffed his gear into the pack.  She motioned for him to follow her into the densest portion of the grove of trees, and he followed.

 

          Despite the lack of any path, the girl seemed to be determined in her direction.  Ryan wondered at her clear attention to leaving as little trail as possible.  Locat is hardly a mastermind -- and then he remembered the clever son.  Ah, she is clever herself.

 

          The sun was just beginning to peek through the forest’s roof of leaves when they emerged into a small clearing.  Before them lay several gentle hills that gave way to some impressive mountains.

 

          “Why don’t we take a break?  I could use a few moments of rest,” Ryan suggested.

 

          “No " we must keep going -- up.”  She was adamant as she gestured towards the uninviting mountains. Ryan groaned.

 

          “This is punishing, girl " --  he began to protest.

 

          “It is not far -- hurry,” she retorted as she began to run down a steep slope that led to a small ravine; a narrow path snaked from the hollow between the gentle hills until its sides were steep and rocky, dotted with brushy growth and dwarf trees.  The girl’s pace was quite quick, and Ryan thought she even began to look flushed with effort.  Concentrating on the narrow rocky path, he was shocked to almost collide with her at what seemed to be the stony end of the ravine.

 

          “What are you doing?” he asked in exasperation as she seemed to begin to attack the underbrush on the rocky face.  But then he realized that she was moving what appeared to screens woven from sticks and vegetation cleverly concealed by vines that grew down the slope.  When she saw that he finally understood, he thought he saw a wisp of a smile pass briefly over her face.  When she had cleared an opening large enough for them to slip through, she turned to him with a triumphant look and gestured him towards the opening.  He stepped into the darkness.

 

          A cave -- by God -- big enough to drive a fire engine through, he chuckled to himself.

 

          As his eyes adjusted to the light and his body welcomed the coolness, he realized he had stepped into a cavern that extended almost like a roadway back into and up the mountain.  Ryan helped the girl pull the screens back across the opening, and they turned to make their way through the cavern.

 

          He was amazed that steps seemed to have been hewn from the stone; niches had been carved at intervals on the ascent where squatty candles and sometimes small oil lamps flickered.  Who makes candles here?! I haven’t seen candles anywhere on this planet!  And oil lamps? Who keeps these burning? And how does this little Vlern know of these things?

         

At first the climb was gentle, but after an hour or so, the incline became steeper and more rugged.  Ryan was now seriously winded.  The girl scrambled up with the carelessness of a child, and Ryan envied her unconscious assault of the mountain.  His breath began to burn his insides and his chest heaved.  For a while pride pushed him on, but that soon was a depleted resource.  The air became thinner.  When he felt his chest would explode, he called out sharply to her.

 

          “Small Vlern -- stop.”

 

          She was two or three meters ahead of him.  When she turned, he saw her lip curled with disdain.  He smiled weakly.

 

          “I may have saved your hide from the lout, dear girl, but my super powers do not include mountain climbing -- or levitation, more’s the pity.”

 

          She seemed to relent somewhat.

 

          “Only a moment,” the voice in his head warned.

 

          “I am grateful for any moment,” he gasped, dropping to one of the steps.

 

          When the ache in his lungs had subsided, he squinted at her.

 

          “Is it polite to ask where we are going?  Or do you even know where we are going?”

 

          “All Vlern know,” was her flat reply.

 

          “To your father?  As your mother advised?”

 

          “She is a stupid and weak woman!” Lyra snapped.

 

          “Perhaps only trapped,” Ryan answered. “Perhaps a slave, like you were.  Locat is stronger than her -- and cruel.  She must protect her other children.”

 

          “They are all stupid,” Lyra spat.

 

          “Ah, the relentlessness of youth -- a normal affliction.”

 

          “Enough rest.”  She stood and whirled about to continue her climb.  Sighing, Ryan arose, adjusted his pack, and resumed his plodding up the steps.

 

          Sweat coursed down his face; he could feel sweat droplets running down his back under his tunic.  Just as he thought he could not put one foot in front of the other, his face felt a slight breeze and his eyes saw the light of day ahead.

 

          “See!”  she crowed with glee.  “We are here!”  She danced into the sunlight.  Squinting his eyes against the light, Ryan glanced around to assess what she declared was their destination.

 

          The place bore a great resemblance to an Alpine meadow, tall grass and delicate flowers swaying gracefully in a slight breeze; directly ahead was a shimmering lake, fed by a frothy fall of water over a stone shelf.  Besides the soothing rush of the waterfall, only the whisper of the soft wind and the occasional song of birds interrupted the lovely quiet.  An area of fine ivory colored sand flanked one side of the lake and stretched to a small bluff of moss covered rocks.  There, improbably, stood a lean-to of weathered wood, with the cold remains of a well-used fire pit close by; a neat stack of firewood sat beside the lean-to.  Ryan turned questioning eyes to the girl.  Her icy blue eyes blazed as her silent response resounded in his head.

 

          “Vlern.”

 

          This annoyed him.  She spoke to me on the trail!  Why this perverse little demo of her powers now?”  His weariness had abraded his patience, leaving only thin ragged remnants.  He stumbled towards the lean-to, dropping his pack collapsing to the soft sand.

 

          The girl threw a few pieces of wood into the fire pit and began to stroll the perimeter of the lake to gather kindling.  When she had returned and stuffed the kindling under the wood pieces, she retrieved what appeared to be flint rocks from the back of the lean-to and bent over the fire pit.

 

          “Here -- let me,” he said, surreptitiously pulling his tiny utility laser from his pocket.  He took the rocks from her, and pretending to rub them together, activated the laser to start the fire.  Carefully he managed to slip the laser back into his pocket while handing the rocks back to her.

 

          She was surely amazed that he started the fire with so little effort.  She examined the rocks before tossing them back under the lean-to and retuning her frankly curious face to Ryan.

 

          “Where do you come from?”  she asked in a tone that clearly indicated she did not believe he came from here.

 

          Pleased at the almost conversational sound of her question, Ryan began to speak casually as he busied himself pulling items from his pack.

 

          “It is not a place you would know.  I come from a place that is very away in the sky, but it no longer exists.  Those of use who lived there ruined it.  Our place was every bit as lovely as your place, but we could not stop warring against each other, and the wars destroyed our homes. Some of us were sent out in starships to travel through the sky to find new places where we could live, where we could bring our people to start again -- since our own world no longer could support us.”  He paused, shaking his head with sadness.  “But some beings, Lyra, always want war -- or they want what another has -- or they fear their neighbors for stupid and ignorant reasons -- so they fight.  And that is what happened to the ones left on our world -- they destroyed each other and what was left.  It was not enough for them -- they wanted to control the water and trees and the grass -- they wanted power over their fellows.  Their greed devoured our world, and there was no place left for us to go.  So we came here.”

 

          “How can that be done?  Destroy the trees and water?  What is starships?  Are there others like you?  Where are they?  How can you go into the sky?   It is stupid to destroy what all need!”  Her questions and then her declaration came in rapid-fire succession.

 

          “It is stupid.  Those of us remaining are scattered through the stars.  I heard the Vlern and I wanted to be with them, and so -- here we are. And I will answer all of your questions when we are rested.  But now, young lady, I am ready for a bath and, I should think, you are too.”  He stood and smiled.

 

          “Bath?  What is bath?”

 

          “Goodness, girl, you sound full of mistrust,” Ryan admonished, trying to guide her towards the lake with a gentle arm around the shoulders.  “You know, a bath -- water -- washing, you know -- "

 

          She had taken two or three steps with him, but at the mention of washing and water, she stopped in her tracks.

 

          “In water?” she asked incredulously.  “No -- not water --- “

 

          “Indeed, water.” Ryan affirmed, tightening his hold.  He pushed her towards the water’s edge, amused as she curled her toes as if trying to brake her progress.

 

          “No!”  she gasped as the lapping (and probably frigid, he thought) water first touched the tips of her toes.

 

          “Yes.” With that he swept her off her bare feet and carried her squirming like an eel into the lake.  When the water was just below his waist, he dropped her with a resounding splash.

 

          It is very cold, he laughed to himself.

 

          Sputtering and uttering some fairly florid curses for someone of her tender years, she surfaced, flailing one arm and using her other hand to move the wet and heavy mat of hair from her face.

 

          “Pig!”  she managed between coughs, backing away from him.

 

          “Whatever, dearie.”  He had tucked the last of his liquid soap into his pocket; retrieving it now, he advanced upon the reluctant bather.  “I am resolved to be a clean pig, and I am equally resolved that you should be a clean little Vlern child.”

 

          Since the territory of the lake was uncharted, she appeared to be loath to move at all, afraid of where she might end up, but her face was a study in defiance.

 

          “I am not a child!” she retorted as he grasped the shoulders of her filthy garment and pulled it over her head, ignoring her shrieks.

 

          Ryan had to admit to himself that he was shaken when he saw that indeed, she was not a child.  But he maintained his calm and continued to treat her as if she surely was one, pouring a generous stream of soap over her head and speaking in a blasé tone.  He showed her how to lather and scrub her head, and instructed her to spread soap over her body.  She was surprised at the effect of the soap, examining her forearms and hands carefully.  She did squall mightily when a rivulet of soapy water found its way into one of her eyes, but he washed the soap away carefully and soothed her distress.  He spoke of his life on Earth, his travels, his glimpse of the magnificence on Qtil 8 and the wonderful gift that magnificence left him.  She became still as he massaged his own head, puffs of lather floating away from them like tiny clouds on the water.  As he bathed, he told her of French-milled soap and its extravagant lather, of hot chocolate and steak dinners, of Yosemite and the oceans.  She was docile as he rinsed her head, her small hands gripping his sleeves.  He wondered if anyone had ever treated this little Vlern with tenderness as he pushed a wet tendril of hair from her face.

 

          “Now -- see?  That was not as bad as you thought, eh?”

 

          She nodded but her teeth had begun to chatter, and her shivering was obvious.

 

          “Wait here in the water, Lyra -- you’ll be even colder when you come out.  I’ll fetch something to wrap you around yourself.  Kneel down in the water so it comes up to your chin -- there, that’s right!  Now you aren’t as cold, eh?  I have some clothes I stole from a nice lady back in Udez for just such an occasion.”  He continued to talk to Lyra as he waded towards the sandy shore.  He thought of the friendly lady of the night in Udez and his chaste “one night stand” with her; the glass beads and now the clothes had served him well during this little adventure, and he hoped the lady of Udez was faring as well with the hand mirror he had given her.

 

  ~~~~~

 

 

          He awoke with a start.  She squatted beside him and vigorously shook his shoulder.  In the tentative morning light, mist curled up from the placid water.

 

          “Hurry -- we must go.”  He heard her urgent tone in his head.  “He will be following us by now -- to bash in your brains and drag me back. We need to start up the mountain.”

 

          Ryan grunted a reply and raised himself on an elbow to squint at the now clean urchin with the red hair and implacable face.

 

          “Surely you can speak,” Ryan mused aloud.  Her expression did not change, and she motioned impatiently towards the trail leading to the mountain.

 

          "No time -- come.”

 

          Ryan stood and folded his thermal cover, stowing it in his backpack.  He sighed, noting the gnawing in his belly.  “Coffee,” he murmured, “how I wish...”

 

          She was pacing as he gathered up his gear.  When he had secured the pack, he bowed to her with a flourish.

 

          “Lead on, little sergeant -- since you seem to know the way.”

 

          “All Vlern know the way,” her mind snapped back to him as she whirled around to the path.  He followed.

 

 

         

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

I thought I had lost this chapter in a disk failure. made prologue chapter 1 and changed 1 to 2. adding 3. will write new prologue that will sounder foundation to story.