Chapter 5: An Unusual Beat

The area is swarming with the Bacana soldiers as Berin and Glavino encounter a most peculiar sound.

An Unusual Beat

The area swarmed with Bacana soldiers. Everywhere they turned they would find another series of soldiers moving to the southeast.

“If they are heading towards the sea, perhaps it is better we travel to the Manas Hu. They will protect us. From there we can easily find our way to Akola.”

“Agreed.”

The two men ran in the direction of the border with Manas Hu, near the Bo Hai crossing, in the hope to cross onto the Hu side, and be protected from the Keturah soldiers and Labar’s wrath.

“We have to cross in the next few veros.”

“Why?”

Berin’s suspicion rose in his heart. All Vergarans might soon be rounded up like cattle and led to the slaughter, or whatever it was that Labar wanted done with Berin’s adopted countrymen. But how could he tell Glavino? He searched for the right words, only none came.

Four more veros passed until they grew close to the border with the Manas Hu.

“This is as far southwards I have been,” said Glavino, a sense of bewilderment covering his entire face.

They spent the night in a baobab tree.

“Why up here?” Glavino asked.

“Not found by the Bacana soldiers.”

“But is cold.”

“Only one night.”

Why am I talking like Glavino? Two desirees, and my speech has changed!

Berin deliberately extended his words, pronouncing them with a hint of elegance. “We shall cross the river in the morning. How does that sound?”

“Do not like rivers.”

“We shall find a quiet, slow current where we shall cross. I have a feeling I know where one is.”

“Fine.”

“Thank you for coming with me, Glavino. I know not how I could have the willpower to traverse without you.”

“Thank you for letting me come.”

The two conversed well into the night about all things mighty and miniature.

“Who is your favourite Vergaran god?” asked Glavino.

“My favourite? I do not have a favourite. I told you where I think the gods reside. Do you?”

“What?”

“Have a favourite?”

“The god of mushrooms!”

“Does he have a name?”

“She. She is Pashua.”

“Is not Pashua the goddess of all living things with roots?”

“Yes. Of course. There is no god just for mushrooms!”

“You think there should be,” joked Berin.

“Of course.”

 “Tell me about the Manas Hu, Glavino,” Berin whispered as he readjusted his body until it lay on the branch.

“Manas Hu were descendants of Hu. Hu lived on the island of Cuha. Five hundred eklars ago, Vali, Hu’s second son, left with family for the mainland. After two hundred and another fifty eklars they fought the Cuha and the island. Peace was restored a hundred eklars ago.”

Berin was uncertain how much of this was true and how much was concocted inside Glavino’s mind. Glavino’s precision with his detail, though, caused Berin to doubt himself. Perhaps it was true. Berin cared little for the Manas Hu when he first met one. They were a strange tribe, full of distrust, lacking a hospitable feel to a man newly awashed on their shorelines.

“How come you know all this?”

“Melchiorre. Last year.”

Berin and Glavino did not talk of the danger that lay ahead of them. Berin did talk of his wife and children.

“I miss them, Glavino.”

“I know.”

“I miss Juolo’s tender embrace.”

“Indeed.”

“And Rini’s laugh.”

“Mmm.”

“And Erinu �" her ability to gauge anything I set before her.”

“Uhuh.”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Sure.”

“You are not! Glavino!”

“What?”

“You were falling asleep.”

“I was not. You were talking about your family.”

“What did I say?”

The first rays of the morning swept across Glavino’s face.

“Oh look. Dawn.”

“Do not change the topic.”

“No, did you not say something about dawn?”

 “Of course. Time to get down.”

 Together they climbed out of the tree.

We must be nearing the edge of the Nevoa Forest, thought Berin.

That morning, they crossed the Bo Hai River, wading through the flowing river.

“Current would be low, you said,” after both had stumbled and lost their way into the water.

“Sorry, Glavino, but we made it, did we not?”

“Humph.”

Berin quickly checked the area for any soldiers. Satisfied there were none, they continued into the forest of poipa trees at the middle hours of the morning. These trees were tall and thick and provided great shade and, more importantly, security for the two fugitives.

The two were quietly traipsing through the forest. Suddenly, Berin paused. He motioned for Glavino to do the same. They instinctively crouched in silence. A low, constant beat could be heard. Berin looked at his partner, dumbfounded at its origin.

“Some distance off,’ said Glavino. ‘Move forward.”

They continued through the forest, keeping to the thickly-forested sections. Berin constantly inspected any potential movement, his head and eyes darting with every beat of the unusual sound.

“It is not natural. It must be human.”

“Agreed.”

And then, a new beat, a lower thud, complementing the first, reached the ears of the two before swirling upwards to the canopy and out into the open sky.

“You look nervous, Glavino.”

“I am.”

“Get in front of me, then.”

“In front? No.”

“Do not fear. I am right behind you.”

“Are you nervous, too?”

Can he not hear my heart? Berin wondered.

They continued in this formation, though it was clear with Glavino’s constant shuddering this was not going to work.

Without warning, the tall poipa trees disappeared. Only stunted undergrowth remained. Berin grasped at Glavino to stop him. He missed and stumbled over a rock. His face landed on the small, sharp pebbles common in the forests of these parts. But the pain would not deter him. He pushed himself onto his feet and caught up with Glavino. As he reached for him, a whirr flew between their two heads. Berin recognised the object instantly.

“An arrow!”

Instead of grabbing Glavino, he tackled him like North Keturah bears tackle one another, falling face-first once again into the small pebbles.

“Stay down!” barked Berin before Glavino could protest. Glavino obeyed. The two lay facedown in the dirt only for a moment, before Berin motioned Glavino to crawl. They wormed forward, slowly as not to provoke another deathly spiky object.

We should return to the safety of the forest, he thought.

They did not crawl far before the undergrowth defending them dissipated. Berin and Glavino stood and ran backwards, crouching next to a bush. Its fragrance Berin did not know, though it reminded him of the moment after one has bathed.

“Look!’ said Glavino, peering above the bushes. He had discovered the source of the beats. Directly in front of them was a field of duceras. To the left was a sea of blood red, of silver and iron flashing in the morning light. It was the Keturah army in all its bloodiest warring might.

“Look!” pointed Berin. To the right of the fugitives, down the slightest of inclines, was an army dressed in black. Their horses were black, sleek yet powerful, and breathing heavily. The contoured swords of the riders were raised, as the riders rang out a blood-curdling scream. It was the famous warrior cry of the Manas Hu.

“We have stumbled right into a battle!”

Before Berin could realise, a noise came from behind the two. A hand clasped Berin’s hair, and pulled his head back. A contoured sword was thrust firmly against his throat, ready to pierce the goose bumps on the skin.

“Spies!” claimed the holder of the contour sword to his assailant, who had Glavino in the same pose. The assailant was dressed in black armour, grasping Glavino with vicious intent in his eyes.

“No, not spies!” whispered Berin. Glavino started whimpering.

“Liar!” said the Manas Hu soldier holding Berin in the lingua franca spoken throughout the known world.

“No, not spies!’ Berin repeated, this time in the same tongue as his captor. ‘Farmers from Vergara.”

But the two Manas Hu scouts would hear nothing they said. They tied the two with niolon rope; known for its harsh strips that stab into flesh. They were led away in the direction of the Manas Hu army.

“We are not spies!”

They were ignored. Traipsing through the forest, Berin could think of no escape. The niolon rope was changing to a red colour. It was difficult to keep still hands while climbing over uneven ground and so the strips cut beneath his flesh. They soon reached the camp of the Manas Hu. It was a large expanse of canopies draped and tied to the trees surrounding the edge of the clearing. Boys and young men, not dressed in armour, hurried about with all kinds of items.

“Where are they taking us?”

“I know not, Glavino.”

“How close are we to the battle?”

“I know not.”

“What are we to do?”

“Nothing. Look, here they are taking us towards that large canopy. Perhaps that is where their general resides.”

Berin and Glavino stooped with their captors. Entering the canopy, Berin found it difficult to adjust to the darkened area. As he slowly grew familiar with the dim light, he saw a man, half-dressed in black armour, being bandaged by a servant.

One of the Manas Hu soldiers spoke in his native tongue as he bowed before the man. The man became agitated and yelled at the soldier. The soldier quickly bowed again and grasped Berin by the shoulder, dragging him out into the sunlight.

“What happened?” whispered Glavino when his captor had pulled him out by his neck.

“I know not.”

The Manas Hu soldiers whispered to one another. Then, one pointed over to a series of horses. Men lined next to a wooden fence between them and the horses. They, like Berin and Glavino, were tied by niolon rope.

“What is happening?” asked Berin.

The two soldiers turned to him.

“The general has no time for you. He suggested you be sent to Qala Vali. There is a group returning there now. We will see if they have enough horses for two more spies.”

Soon the two were on horseback, riding away from the battlefield towards the chief city of Manas Hu, known as Qala Vali. After his initial outbursts against them being spies, Berin remained silent. He ordered Glavino to do the same.

“There is no use arguing,” he spoke to Glavino when their horses were aligned side by side. They were behind a soldier each, who directed the horses into a brisk walk.

Glavino clasped his new captor’s abdomen tighter and rested his head against his back. The sullen look on his face echoed Berin’s sentiments. Berin fought in his mind for the correct words to encourage Glavino. None came.

“We are prisoners and we have to wait and see what happens.”