Chapter 2: The Previous Night

As Berin and Glavino wait out the soldiers, Berin contemplates the previous night.

The Previous Night

“Which star galaxy is that one, Papa?’ pointed Erinu. ‘The galaxy next to the…the…the Wild Boar?”

“The Twin Sisters!” said Rini. He beamed with vigour. Berin rolled off his back, away from the fire. He stared and smiled at Rini.

“That is correct, son. The preceptor has taught you something.”

The emphasis on the final word made Rini blush and look away.

“Or he finally remembered something,” piped his sister.

“Erinu!”

“It is true, is it not?”

Berin did not respond.

“I mean, I can remember the names of all the plants around our house and the names of all the towns as well. When I asked him earlier what towns he passed through on the route back from Ariquemes, he stared at me and did not answer.”

“Quiet, Erinu.”

It was too late. Rini ran off towards the house, passing Juolo as she came towards the fire.

“What is the matter with Rini?”

“Never mind.”

“Erinu was teasing him again.”

“Teasing, Papa? I was only telling the truth.”

“Perhaps. It was the way you said it. You said it with no tact.”

“Tact?”

Juolo butted in.

“Taking into consideration the feelings of another person. What you say might affect them.”

“Mama is right, Erinu.”

“What? I have no feelings?”

“No, we did not say that.”

“Not at all, darling.”

“Then, what do you mean?”

Berin paused, choosing his words carefully. The pause, though, was enough for Erinu. In similar fashion, she stormed off towards the house. Berin started after her. Juolo gripped his clothes.

“Give her a moment. Anyway, it is your turn to wash.

“But I cooked the meat.”

“I thought you said Erinu cooked it.”

“Not exactly. She helped.”

“And I am to presume she also did not hunt it all by herself, either?”

“Not exactly.”

“So she was telling the truth at the beginning.”

“Did she tell you?”

“When we first arrived, she did, yes.”

“Then I feel like such a fool talking about her hunting prowess.”

“It is fine, honey. You know you are not a good liar.”

Berin grinned.

Juolo continued. “I still need you to wash the plates. I am exhausted. Perhaps while doing that you can talk to her. Give her time.”

Juolo sat closer to the fire, staying clear of the smoke.

“It is windier than normal tonight.”

“Indeed. Was it windy in Ariquemes?”

“Not at all, which is surprising at this time of the eklar. Around the plains, it tends to be so windy one must hold one’s hair.”

“Springtime has arrived.”

“Felt almost like summer there. It was like that last time Melchiorre came.”

“What ghastly stories did he tell this time?”

“They are never ghastly, Berin. Anyway, I shall let Rini tell you about Goiim’s recent civil war. He is better at saying those ridiculous names than I am.”

Berin shifted his body closer to Juolo.

“Any news of the Orguein Islands?”

“Yes, indeed. I thought you might be interested. Daibing is now king.”

“Daibing? That was a brief ruling.”

“Brief? Feng lasted twelve eklars.”

“True, but in comparison to other kings…”

“You know the sword fashioned by Aleutian?”

“The Hudai?”

“The one and the same. The Aleutians gave it to celebrate the birth of Hudaibiya.”

They paused, Berin drawing closer to Juolo with his indinai. He felt her neck where the miter had slung off her head. He stroked the scar on her neck.

“I shall never forget.”

“You had better not,’ she grinned. ‘Anyway, we saved each other, did we not?”

“True, but I think I got the far greater deal in this contract.”

“You calling our marriage and two children a mere contract?”

 

If only I knew how to utter words properly, he pondered. The light outside the alcove was dimming, so there was no need to close his eyes. He gazed inside his memory, watching his wife return huffing to the house. His last words to three people - the three most important people in his life �" were words he regretted.

They must not be my last.

 

“Berin, do you hear that?”

“What?”

“Listen.”

“What is it?”

“Listen,” Glavino repeated.

“I can hear no sound.”

“Right. There are no birds, like before.”

“Quiet! They are here.”

Glavino and Berin traded places, Berin resting his head as low to the opening as possible without being seen from the outside.

This is where the animal urinated, he thought. The smell punctured the back of his throat. Berin realised for the first time how long it was since his last meal. Glavino would have not eaten for even longer. That would have to wait.

At first Berin heard nothing. He shifted position, allowing blood to flow back to his legs. When he settled again, he sensed an unusual sound outside. It was the faint noise of footsteps. They were at a fast pace. He pictured them stamping on the soft grass, over the thorns, coming to where the small pebbles lay. He heard the soft crunch of skin on pebble.

“They are approaching.”

A thud came from the rear of the alcove. It was Glavino’s head, bumping against the back. The large man let out a brief cuss. Berin kicked in his direction. Whatever he connected with shut the lips of Glavino. Berin leaned closer, ready to listen, ready to pounce should the need arise.

The running noises ceased. Berin could now hear voices in front of and near the cave. It was short commands.

Perhaps their leader is with them. Perhaps they are using their tracking skills to find us. I hope I covered those tracks correctly.

“They cannot find tracks to follow,” whispered Glavino. Berin looked at where he thought Glavino was, ready to kick again. What made him say that? He wished his friend were correct. No tracks meant they would seek elsewhere and give the two men a chance to escape. For, Berin knew, there would be no bold stance from here. They were like pigs, cornered in their pen, right before the harvest festival. Everyone loved roasted ham at the festival.

Glavino etched closer to the opening. Now the two men lay side by side, Glavino’s adunai shoulder leaning against Berin.

By the gods, that shoulder is firm.

After some time, the tone of the voices altered to ones of complete outrage. Berin breathed outward, not realising he had been holding air for a lengthy period.

“Quiet,” whispered Glavino.

Berin obeyed. They noticed a shuffling of feet on the dirt towards their hideout. Berin lay still, hoping Glavino would shadow him.

Maybe the soldiers have found our tracks.

It was now up to the camouflage of the cave to save them. From where Berin lay, he could see a tiny outline of what was outside. As the feet moved towards the cave, Berin noticed only one pair of sandals. They were beautifully leathered together. The feet attached, however, resembled the craggy mountain of Chifre, its cliffs jagged and uninviting. They stopped right next to the opening. Berin’s heart halted, that moment when the winds still suddenly.

This is it.

A pungent smell returned to Berin. His eyes searched his mind, recollecting the familiar scent. He remembered he smelt it moments earlier. Berin saw moisture drop down the opening. The soldier was relieving himself while conversing with another behind him, perhaps his commander. The tone of the conversation was not direct, almost playful in their demeanour towards one another. Berin heard the occasional universal word and recognised one or two. Most likely, they were abandoning their search. He listened more intently, trying to remember the few Bacana words he encountered since his arrival in Vergara. He picked up the word for wife. The rest was obscurity to him.

If only I understood them. Juolo would know more. Vergara was her birthplace.

The soldier finished his cascading and retreated from the opening towards the direction of the other voice. Glavino tapped Berin on the head. Berin flinched before realising whose fingers touched him.

“They said they are going to take your wife and children to Akola to be sold as slaves,” he whispered.

Berin turned to where he anticipated Glavino’s face was in the darkness.

“You know the Keturah tongue?”

Berin sensed Glavino’s smirk in his words: “Well, when you live close to them, you must speak like them to trade for some mushrooms.”

Berin almost laughed. How could Glavino have known another language?

Even if it was only for a few mushrooms.

“They must be worth it.”

“Have you tried my mushroom stew with wild boar?”

Wild Boar.

Berin remembered the last moment he heard that phrase as he felt the dust in his eyes.

“No.”

“You have not been to my house in a long time.”

“We have been busy, Glavino.”

“I understand. But I have been to yours many times. Why do you not visit?”

Berin did not answer. He could not answer.

“Anyway, it is gone now.”

“Are you sure?”

“It was full of fire when I ran to your house, Berin. Nothing would stop the flames.”

“We could go see what remains.”

Berin sensed Glavino shook his head.

“What is the point? Nothing would be left.”

“Then we must return to my house.”

“Why?”

“The soldiers would think we are heading towards Ariquemes. If we head in the opposite direction, we might have a chance of avoiding them. Plus, I have to know for sure.”

“They will torch your house too.”

“I have to know the whereabouts of my family,” Berin inflected.

“They are going to Akola.”

“Perhaps we can head them off.”

“That is unlikely.”

“How do you know, Glavino?”

“I do not.”

“Then we shall return to the house.”

“Shall we leave now?”

“We will wait until night reaches.”

“Fine.”