The Tower of Il Serrohe (21 page)

BOOK: The Tower of Il Serrohe
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Scarflue sighed and chanted a brief portion of that same litany. ‘I want out of here. I will do anything to get out of here. You can kill me after I get outside; I don’t want to
live down here
anymore! And I certainly don’t want to die here. To die on the open plain with my body to rot and mingle with the dust of the desert will at least leave my soul in peace.’


Our mouths must have been open down to our waists because he got mad and started raving.

“‘
You stupid little stinking Nohmin fools! I’ll tell you anything. You have me in the worst possible circumstance!’ He sobbed the kind of sobs that reached down through the lungs to the very depths of his skinny gut.


Niddle-ai put his hand on Narknose’s shoulder. ‘I think he means it. He doesn’t strike me as a liar. Not like this. This may be our golden opportunity.’


He turned to the disheveled Scarflue. ‘OK, you want to see the blue sky? Fine. Tell us how a few puny Nohmin can bring down the mighty Tower.’


With tremendous effort, Scarflue stifled his body-wracking sobs. In turn, he looked deeply in each of our eyes. ‘If you use me and
then
leave me in this stink hole may a thousand ‘Drowning Plagues’ curse you and your kind forever.’


We just looked back at him. But he went on. ‘OK, only send two or three people. They will be harder to see and can move quickly out of the Tower’s sight. Even across the Seared Meadow. No one watches from the Tower at night. The priests reside in a monastery west of it. You could pull the Tower down and kill all who know of the Time Chant.”


I don’t like killing,” Narknose stated.


You must! You must! A new Tower could be built.”


One thing at a time,’ Narknose said. ‘Now shut up or you’ll rot down here, alone if necessary.”

That shut up Scarflue instantly.


Narknose brought both his hands up to scratch his chin in characteristic Nohmin fashion. ‘How can two or three Nohmin bring down that tower? It is bigger than Nohome!’

“‘
Because of the Time Chant, the adobes are not mortared together with mud because it would dilute the chant’s effects. So they are just set one on another except every ten rows there is a single layer of mud mortar; otherwise, the Tower could be no higher. There are vertical timbers behind the wall to lend support but a strong wind like the one all those years ago can bring it all down. The wall could be pulled down once you can get to the top and pull from there with coils of hemp or something. The few layers of mud and the timbers would not withstand that kind of pressure.’

“‘
Narknose looked at us. ‘Niddle-ai, you must go. Your wisdom and warrior experience is necessary.’ He looked at me. ‘And Nersite, you’re small and strong. Get Netheraire, too. Her swiftness and ways with medicinal herbs are needed.’


I started to protest, but Narknose looked like his mind had been made up.


Not much could be planned for we were no good at that.


Scarflue was pessimistic about our preparation, but he restrained from commenting since he figured our unpredictability could be an asset. He urged us to remain hidden during our approach. Either we were to approach in the dead of a moonless night or underground as there were old tunnels near the Tower built by a clan much like Nohmin who had lived there before the Soreyes arrived at the edge of the Valle.


His final advice didn’t make sense to me, but had to do with coils of hemp the Soreyes usually left laying around the bottom of the Tower. He explained it to Niddle-ai, so I didn’t pay attention.


Scarflue put himself in a meditative trance, apparently to escape the horror of his circumstance. Further attempts to communicate with him were pointless.


Perhaps if we came back alive, the Nohmin would free him. Or if everyone just starved, he might live a little longer than us.


We were sent off with a minimum of ceremony. The old grating covering the hidden tunnel exit was a task to remove, but after that it was an easy climb on the gentle incline. Soon, however, it narrowed, and we had to walk bent over double. At that point, it was no longer glassed in, and the dirt coated us with a thick, gritty film.


Then it became a matter of crawling, holding our wobbly candles in front of us.


The walls closed in so much that even Netheraire had to crawl on her stomach. No longer able to hold the candles, it was with apprehension we put them out and felt our way with our hands.


The absolute darkness weighed heavily and we were even afraid of small talk. We communicated only when necessary to prevent loss of control and cries of despair.


The confining womb of black sand, black air, and the rising floor threatened to lock us in its horror. We feared being unable to move or expand our chests to breathe, worried we would die long, dark deaths of claustrophobic terror. Luckily, we were always just short of that awful possibility.

“‘
Move slower, young ones,’ Niddle-ai said, his voice swallowed by the thick blackness as soon as he spoke.

“‘
I can’t slow down because—’

“‘
Because, Nersite, you will get stuck never to move again.’


Why did he have to say
that?

“‘
Netheraire, slow down.’

“‘
What?’ Her voice barely audible.

“‘
Slow down! Niddle-ai can’t keep up.’

“‘
OK.’


I reached ahead and touched her foot for reassurance.

“‘
What’s that?’ She screamed.

“‘
Just me,’ I said, apologetically.

“‘
Don’t do that. The touch of
anything
is just too much. It could be the top caving in—’ She gasped in return.


We continued with only the muted sound of our grunting and scraping sand aside as we pushed it under us or bumped the ceiling a mere handbreadth above our prone bodies.


Finally, I reached out and encountered something hard and damp.

“‘
A root! We’re nearing the edge of the forest.’


But it was no blessing. When new, the ancient shaft had been clear, but now it was interlaced with roots that had grown through and across its gap.


Netheraire passed easily through the roots in the passage, but Niddle-ai and I had to go slowly to avoid becoming stuck.

It happened, anyway. I twisted to the left to try to inch along on my left hip and shoulder past a tangle of younger roots. But at the narrowest junction, my right hip touched the ceiling—I was stopped.

“‘
Oh, by the wood and Sky Most High, I’m stuck!’”

 

 

forty

 

 


So, now you know how I feel,” Don said. “The same way you were feeling… except worse!” There was a breathless pause. “You’re sure there’s no beer or wine here?”


No, sorry. Maybe when we run off the Soreyes, you can raid their stores,” Nersite replied, with sarcasm.


If
we run off the Soreyes
,” Don said. “What if you had been down there on your own and gotten stuck? Then what? Gone crazy and starved to death—if you hadn’t beaten yourself senseless?”


There are times when Nohmin are out of close range to their fellows, even out of scent range. In that case we call out: ‘Hey! Hey! Hey!’”


Yeah, well, what if you’re so fuc—uh, so far away they can’t even hear your call like when you’re down in a little bitty hole and the dirt swallows up your feeble ‘Hey-Hey!’?”

Nersite thought a moment. “Well, there’s our low-pitched call that carries underground or above for at least a 100 yards or so. It goes like this…”

Nersite furrowed his brow, opened his mouth in a narrow slit forming a tight-lipped grimace. His tiny nostrils flared and shrank back three times in quick succession while his belly seemed to convulse violently.

There was a strange thumping sensation Don could feel in his chest. Nersite smiled proudly. “There, see?”


See what? Or should I ask, ‘hear what’?” Don was getting desperate for a cold beer.
What a bunch of stupid shit!
He thought.


This…” Nersite did the little grimace, stomach convulsions, and nostril flares again. “It’s kind of low-pitched so it carries through almost anything for quite a ways.”


Hmm. I did feel an odd thumping on my chest. Was that it? I couldn’t
hear
anything.”

Nersite looked puzzled. Then he did it again. “Now?”


OK, I guess I just can’t hear that, but I could feel it. Although I doubt I would feel it at any distance.”


Walk back to that second piñon tree behind you.”

Don turned around and saw a tree over a hundred yards away. “That one?”


Just go.”

Don sighed.
Maybe those
Taurimin have a bar down there by the river he’s not telling me about.
He walked off. When he was in front of the second piñon, he waved dismissively at Nersite. OK
, you little stupid shit, do your thing!

And there it was again, the thumping on his chest, hardly diminished from the sensation when he had stood in front of Nersite. “Well, fu—uh—me and strand me in Juarez, it works!”

He returned sheepishly to Nersite. “OK, can you teach me how to do that?”


I don’t know. We’re rather different from each other. You’re bigger and built more like the Pirallts: taller, slender, larger ears, eyes, and nose. No offense.”


None taken. I wouldn’t want to be small like you anyway although it would be more convenient if I were in the mood for walking tunnels and living in holes, which I’m not. Still, let me try. What do you do besides the goofy face to make that sound?”

Nersite decided Don’s manner of speaking was not meant to be insulting; it was just his way. “The thing is to push up a big wad of air hard from your stomach, open up your throat, and let that air knock hard against the top of your throat like you’re trying to blow the top of your head off.”


What if I succeed?” Don asked, being a smart aleck.


Then you definitely get our attention,” Nersite returned. He was starting to like this strange man in the same weird way one might be amused by a cussing, farting Corvimin, the rude jokesters of the Valle.

Don drew back the corners of his mouth, gave a few tentative pushes with his stomach, and then pushed some air upwards as explosively as he could while his nostrils flared reflexively.

Nersite could be honest or he could be kind. He decided to be like Niddle-ai, his mentor. “Not bad, but you didn’t accomplish anything with that. Open up your throat more. Really try to blow your head off.”

Don went at it again.
Why not? What else do I have to do?

Nersite looked impressed. “Not bad. I felt a little something on my chest, but you’re not there yet. You need practice.”


Yeah, well, when I can clear my schedule I’ll work it in.
So anyway, getting back to your story, what happened next?”


Let me pick up the strand I was on.” Nersite thought a moment.

Then he said: “‘Calm down,’ Netheraire counseled hoping it would allow me to not think too much about being stuck in that hole.


She reached back with her feet and touched my face with her toes. ‘Grab on, Nersite, and I’ll pull.’

“‘
No, no! I gotta go back!’

“‘
We can’t back out of here,’ Niddle-ai growled. ‘I’ll push, now go on.’


It was like being pulled out of a narrow-necked censer. Barely a finger’s width forward and I was free.


I then pulled Niddle-ai through the same spot.

“‘
Dead end! I’ve reached a solid wall,’ Netheraire wailed.


Before my worst fears took over, I noticed that I could dimly see Netheraire.

“‘
I can see you! Look above,’ I said.

“‘
Yes, it’s the hollowed out tree. Oh, I thought we were trapped!’ She let out a little laugh bordering on hysteria.


My eyes filled with tears, and I was fairly slobbering by the time we emerged into the afternoon sun as it filtered through glorious green trees and bushes all breathing their fresh, sweet air on us.”

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