Things Unseen: (An epic fantasy adventure series) (The Caris Chronicles Book 1) (5 page)

Angry at his denial and being forced to voice her failure, she yelled, “You saw me freeze! My mum died because I didn’t let that arrow off in time! I failed her!”

He looked at her in disbelief. Quietly, as if talking to a spooked horse, he replied, “Yes, I was there. I did see what happened”. He paused then said as convincingly as he could, “Caris, there was no way you ever could have shot that derk. You’re good, in fact you’re the best I’ve ever seen, but even you could not have gotten off that shot. There just wasn’t time. That you managed to shoot him at all is amazing, he was moving so fast.”

“What do you mean ‘shoot him at all’?”

“You shot him after he ...”

“Severed my mum in half!” Caris finished for him defiantly, then immediately wished she hadn’t as she bent over to empty the contents of her stomach onto the ground.

Janen left, and Caris sat there in misery with a pool of vomit at her feet. She was so sore, so confused, and so sad. She knew she had failed her mum but was it possible that Janen really didn’t believe so. Did he really not despise her? He was one of the few people who had never looked at her with pity but had always admired her for the things she did well. Was it possible that she could have kept one of her friends after all?
But now I’ve driven him away
. Caris thought about going after him but she smelt like vomit and what could she possibly say to undo all the damage she had just done?

She was still sitting there, lost in regret, when he returned with a flask of water. She looked up at him, surprised, but this time, pleased to see him. “Sorry I took so long, that Bonny is not easy to get away from,” he laughed. He didn’t sit down though, and after a moment glancing at the pool of vomit at Caris’ feet, he asked, “Do you want to go over there?” nodding to a flat spot ten meters away. Caris laughed. He pulled her to her feet but before he could move away, she started crying. Gently, he put his arms around her and held her while she sobbed into his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“It’s okay” he replied tenderly.

When her tears were spent, she pulled away from him and, looking up, noticed with surprise, that he too was wiping his cheeks dry. As they wandered sorely over to a less odour-full place to sit, Caris thought about how Janen too, had lost all his family, friends, and home. She realised guiltily that she had done nothing to try to comfort him in his grief, though he had been there for her twice now when she had broken down.

“Did any of your family survive?” she asked him tentatively.

“None” he replied quietly. He paused, “Janni, Ed, and their two little ones were okay,” he said, offering her a small smile.

“I know, I saw them at the funeral”.

“I didn’t know you were there,” he said in surprise.

“I was at the back” she replied in embarrassment.

“You disappeared for the afternoon.”

“I went to the ravine...”

“The children?” he asked. Caris could only nod in reply. Caris’ mind drifted back to the ravine.

Janen broke the silence. “I was worried about you until I saw you had collected the arrows I left at your doorstep”.

“That was you?” She asked in surprise.

“Sorry I didn’t get a chance to wash them for you, I had to help drag the derks out of town.”

“No, thank you. I was just going to leave them. That must’ve been horribly gory pulling them out.”

“Well, they’re good wood,” Janen mumbled.

They talked companionably until called to eat.

When they returned to camp, Corin, one of the young soldiers, called out “Ah, the young lovers have returned.” Surprised that he would mock her in the sure knowledge that someone as attractive as Janen would never be in love with someone with her strange black hair, Caris shot Corin a reproachful look and, separating from Janen, went to collect a plate.

Bone weary, but with her headache eased and a new sense of contentment, Caris ate her dinner. The friendly subdued chatter of those around her was comforting but Caris made no effort to join in.

When her meal was finished, she cleaned her plate and began laying out her bedroll amongst the other women. She noticed Kalen and Janen laughing quietly together before she made her way over to Caris. Holding out a small leather pouch to her, Kalen spoke in her deep mellow voice, “If you rub this on your thighs it will help with the pain”.

“Oh, thank you,” Caris replied, accepting the gift. Remembering how she had spoiled the head high mound, Caris found another smaller mound to seclude herself behind and, after relieving herself, dubiously applied the ointment she found wrapped in leaves within the pouch. It had a strong distasteful smell and Caris was tempted to use it sparingly but the immediate relief it gave, encouraged her to apply a generous amount. She headed back and offered the pouch to Kalen.

“Keep it; you’ll need it tomorrow night,” Kalen said smiling. Caris groaned and Kalen laughed. Thankfully, Caris climbed into her roll. As the cream began heating up her skin, Caris felt the muscles in her thighs begin to loosen. She considered rising to apply more to her backside but the effort seemed too much and instead she drifted into a deep sleep.

The next morning, Caris was surprised to discover only a slight stiffness in her thighs instead of the battered bruising pain of her rear. She considered applying some to her bottom before setting out but, seeing her picking up the pouch, Kalen said, “If you apply that before riding, the burning will be too much”.

“The relief is amazing, thank you,” Caris said to Kalen, who nodded with a small smile before rolling up her bed.

Caris spent the morning ride observing those around her. She noticed that although Kalen was quiet, she seemed happy. She rode by herself but was constantly sought out by others who would draw their horses alongside hers for some quiet conversation. Though it was obvious Kalen enjoyed her time to think, she welcomed everyone with a sincere interest that left her with very little time alone.

Bonny, on the other hand, rode from one person to the next spreading cheer wherever she went. She talked constantly about anything and everything, often commenting on the beauty she saw around her, drawing people’s attention to things that they would otherwise never have noticed. She drew alongside Caris often and, now that she was in a better mood, Caris welcomed Bonny’s musical voice making her feel like they had been friends for years.

Crispin rode up front, more serious, while they were riding, than he was when they were around the campfire, his eyes everywhere. It was obvious he wasn’t just admiring the scenery like Bonny was. Caris wondered what he was expecting to see. The derks that had attacked her village had headed east, while the band was moving south. They would be long gone by now.

She noticed two of the Horse heading toward the band from the south and east, and as they drew nearer, she realised it was two people from their own group whose names she hadn’t yet learned.
Scouts,
Caris realised.

By their non-urgent canter, Caris supposed their report was not of anything threatening. Crispin rode ahead to meet them. They pulled alongside him. The woman, lithe with short blonde curly hair, spoke to him for a short time while he listened. Before long, they peeled off and cantered away.

Instead of falling back in with the rest of the riders, Crispin continued riding ahead and a young man and woman who he had been talking with earlier rode up to join him. Gone was the easy banter Caris was used to observing around the fire. The three of them talked in earnest. They seemed to be planning but Caris wondered what they had to plan when they were just riding to meet The King and his army.

She presumed she had joined with a regular patrol who were checking on the wellbeing of The Kingdom while The King was at war. She hoped the scouts had not noticed more derk activity ahead, but surely Crispin would have urged them forward, if that were the case.

Garner pulled alongside her, interrupting her musings. She fell into conversation with him and spent the rest of the morning talking about the life she had known in her village and hearing about the different towns and villages he had been to. Originally, Garner had trained as a blacksmith, but at the age of eighteen, he had felt the call of The King and had been travelling, in His service, for the last two years.

Around midday, just as Caris began to look forward to a short break for food, a smudge became visible in the distance. “Trees” Garner said, “We’ll stop there.”

They rode on until, sometime later, they came under the shade of what, Caris now realised, was just the beginning of a long corridor of trees.

Dismounting, they all led their horses down to the small river that stretched ahead parallel to the road. Caris smiled, this would make the journey a lot more pleasant. Crispin allowed them a longer break than the two previous days.

Caris joined the others in kneeling by the water and splashing her face. She yelped when Garner shoved her from behind and she almost toppled into the stream. She splashed water back at him and saturated Syngar who knelt beside her. Garner stuck his head into the water and lapped like an animal. The others laughed at him, before doing the same.

Caris was pleased when they began to ride again and Janen pulled alongside her. Unusually subdued, he rode without speaking. Caris began to feel guilty that she had not been riding in a state of depression. Her family were dead but she did not feel wretched, as she knew she should.

There was a constant pit of pain in the bottom of her stomach that had nothing to do with food, and at the back of her mind was a terrible sadness that she refused to acknowledge. However, whenever thoughts of anyone back home flashed into her mind, as they regularly did, she squashed them and forced herself to focus on something in the present. She knew there was a huge chasm of pain waiting to engulf her if she allowed it. It seemed too much to face and, so for now, she wanted to avoid it.

Choosing not to ask Janen how he was doing, she began instead to talk of trivialities and soon teased him into a better mood. The two spent the rest of the afternoon together in easy camaraderie just as they had so many times before the derks came.

Caris thought back over the way their friendship had developed. She didn’t remember having much to do with Janen as a child. His family lived on the far side of the village, away from the creek, and she supposed they had found other ways to entertain themselves as children.

When she was thirteen and he fifteen, they first fell in together hunting close to the village. They quickly discovered that they made a good team. Janen was competent with a bow but his real skill lay in his uncanny ability to notice any living creature within sight no matter how still or quiet it was. Caris’ skill lay in being able to hit anything he pointed out.

That afternoon they divided their kills equally. Caris wanted to send more home with Janen as there were a lot more people to provide for in his family of five brothers, two with wives and children, but Janen with a stubborn pride that could not be overcome, refused. Both of them took home far more than they ever killed on their own. After that, Janen would often seek her out as a hunting partner. Hunting together meant it was safer to go further afield than they would on their own and so, together, they explored the surrounding country, building a steady and comfortable friendship.

As the sun began to set on the horizon, Crispin called them to rein in near the river. Caris noticed Garner making his way over to her with a grin but she was pleased to discover she could dismount without too much trouble on her own.

The next morning, Caris awoke to find herself with only dull aches and after a few stretches, she went to tend Indira before breaking her fast.

While there, she fell into conversation with Bonny who was brushing down a magnificent black stallion who thus far had been riderless. “Prince,” Caris said, recognising him.

“He’s a beauty, isn’t he?” Bonny replied.

“I’m surprised old Richter parted with him!”

“He said he would need the coin to start again elsewhere, and his brown mare was good enough to get him there. She was a beautiful horse. I would’ve taken her off his hands as well but not for the amount I gave him for Prince. This one’s still young, ungelded; I think he might make a war horse.” Caris shuddered at the thought. She had heard of how the warhorses would charge into battle using their hooves as weapons and ripping at the enemy with their teeth. The thought of this beautiful creature in such a tableau was obscene. She realised she was going to have to toughen up if she really intended to fight for The King.

As Caris began to head back to the camp she heard Bonny cooing to Prince, “You deserve to have a rider, yes you do,” as she nuzzled his face with hers.

As she ate her breakfast, Caris noticed Crispin pull Janen aside and begin talking to him quietly. Janen, she had noticed with amusement, seemed to be in a constant state of awe of Crispin. She was surprised, therefore, to see Janen’s body stiffen and his fists clenching in affront. After a short argument, Janen stomped away red faced.

Caris was mounted and waiting in the road for the last few people when Janen rode up on Prince. She beamed at him in congratulations “You’ve got Prince”.

He darted an angry look at her. “Crispin says Clover won’t be able to keep up and that I need a new mount.”

Thinking that Janen was taking his loyalty to his horse a bit too far, Caris tried to soothe him, “Well, she’ll still come along and you can always say ‘hello’ of an evening. She’ll probably be glad not to have to carry your hulking weight,” she said playfully.

“That’s not the point!” He retorted.

“Well what is the point?”

“The point is ─ I don’t want anyone’s charity!”

Taken by surprise, it took Caris a moment to reply softly, “It’s not charity Janen, we’re in The King’s Army, of course he will provide us with mounts”.

“That’s easy for you to say, you’ve got your sister’s horse,” he said bitterly.

“But she didn’t give her to me, Bonny bought her.”

“And then you probably bought her from Bonny.”

“The idea never even occurred to me.”

“On!” Crispin’s call cut their conversation short.

The band pulled out at a much faster pace than the previous three days, and Caris realised they had been going easy for hers and Janen’s sakes.

Though the shade of the trees along their road made riding through the day much more enjoyable, the briskness of the horse’s walk, interchanged with the occasional canter, made conversation difficult. With the newness of her situation beginning to wear off and less interruptions to her thoughts, Caris found it increasingly difficult to keep her grief at bay. Finally, she gave into her despair at having lost the people who were all the world to her.

Caris spent the next five days in a sea of tears; she replayed things she had seen her family say and do repeatedly. Exhausted, she would sink into a stupor, managing to keep her seat but otherwise unaware of anything around her. At the end of the day, Bonny would help her unsaddle her horse and then place a brush in her hand. Caris would brush, unaware of whether she did a good job or not, until Bonny would take the brush from her hands and

Garner would lead her over to the fire to eat. She stared into the fire blankly, only eating when someone reminded her to put food into her mouth, but even then, often forgetting to chew and swallow. After the meal, Bonny would lay her bedroll out for her and then sit there quietly holding her while Caris sobbed on her shoulder.

On the eighth day of their journey, Janen was riding alongside Caris when his back stiffened.
He’s seen something,
she realised. Spurring his horse into a canter, he rode up to join Crispin. Janen spoke hurriedly to him; all the while, his eyes scanned the brush that had thickened over the last few days along the river. Crispin merely nodded in reply.

This was the first thing that had caught Caris’ attention in days and she wished she could know what Janen had seen, but she had never presumed to join Crispin at the head of the column before, though she had talked with him around the camp fire in the first couple of evenings of her journey with them. She couldn’t explain why but for some reason it seemed to her it would be an impertinence to interrupt him when he was leading the band on the road. It was Janen talking to him this time however, rather than someone she hardly knew, giving her the courage to approach them.

As she pulled her horse alongside, Crispin glanced at her and continued what he was saying to Janen. “My scouts reported a small village up ahead yesterday. We will reach them at this pace midday tomorrow. You are the first to notice their animal traps though, and a child on the other side of the river?” he mused. Janen nodded in confirmation. “I can’t even see the river through that brush,” Crispin continued.

“There was a small break in the scrub” Janen replied.

“They’re trapping far afield from their village. There are not many animals left in these parts. A horde of derks came through, by the hundreds last year, devouring every animal in their path. You could ride for six days and barely see a creature, but they are beginning to repopulate. I was not aware any villagers had survived.”

The three of them fell into silence as they contemplated what they might find when they reached the village. Caris considered falling back, as she didn’t want to presume on Crispin’s company too far, but he didn’t seem to mind them there and there was something comforting about his presence that kept Caris by his side.

It was a little after midday the following day when they reined in at the edge of a small poorly built village by the side of the river. The villagers gathered in a timid huddle, between the huts, watching them with uncertain eyes. The band dismounted and led their horses to a shady spot by the river away from the village. Before Caris could approach the villagers, she heard Crispin quietly listing names, “Kalen, Bonny, Belti, Gemeil, and Jispri.” The five fell in behind him and they cautiously, as if approaching scared animals, walked into the village.

Around Caris, people began to pull out food, but instead of the hurried lunch she was accustomed to, they started to assemble a meal twice as large as the dinner they usually shared.

They started campfires, began to cook eggs, potato, sausages, and soups with cacti greens, watercress, and dried meat. Blankets were laid out and hard bread, biscuits, and cheeses were placed on them. Finally, when they had almost finished preparing the food and the aroma of cooked meat filled the air, Crispin led the fifty villagers over to join them. They were welcomed in gently and offered seats around the food-laden rugs. Fears melted away and smiles came out as bellies, long underfed, were filled. Caris looked around the group of villagers and realised they were mostly children and elderly.

When the meal was finished, one of the old men started to speak. He was stooped with grey hair and a long thin beard, his dark leathery skin was lined with deep creases, but his voice was still clear and strong. “We used to be a prosperous village, living further to the west, we lived a good life with plenty to eat and plenty of loved ones,” at this the old women who were listening intently to him nodded.

“Our village was about four hundred strong and once a year we would meet with other villages at the Great Mete to trade wares and marry our young men and women. Three years ago, two mete’s ago,” he said looking at the other elders for confirmation. Again, the old women nodded, “as there will be no mete this year,” he continued with tears coming into his eyes, “the Garndi’s, a tribe living farthest to the west, did not come. This concerned us, as no tribe ever misses the Great Mete, so we sent scouts west to seek a reason for their absence. The scouts never returned.

The following year at our last mete four more tribes from furthest west never came. By this, we reasoned that there must be some threat to the west. It was but six months later that the derks came. Those you see here, along with a few others, were seeing out the heat of the day at the river, when we heard them coming. There was no question as to our imminent danger and so, without hesitation, we gathered air reeds. Fortunately plenty were prepared as the children were playing with them, and so we escaped by hiding under water in the river until the derks had passed us by.”

Crispin spoke, “I’m sorry to interrupt you, but we are not familiar with ‘air reeds’” he said, looking around to see if anyone else had any knowledge of them. One of the old women nudged a ten-year-old child, a quick looking brown-skinned girl with big brown eyes and lank mousy blonde hair. The girl ran off to the river.

The old man began to explain, “air reeds are reeds. We use a thin stick to hollow out the soft centres and then you can suck air through them. So while we lay on the bottom of the river, holding onto tree roots, so as not to float to the top, we put one end in our mouth and the other sticking above water and can breathe.”

“That’s impossible,” said Bonny, in the belief he was making a joke to laugh at them. Caris looked around; the others seemed to be having as much trouble as her in believing that ‘air reeds’ could possibly work. The brown-skinned girl arrived back carrying a long thick reed. She picked up a thin stick from near one of the fires and began deftly to hollow out the centre of the reed. The band watched mesmerised wondering if this could actually work. She had it hollowed out within moments, then putting it in her mouth and poking it up in the air, she squeezed her nose shut with her fingers and started breathing through it.

“Ingenious” said Crispin. Syngar, who had been watching the demonstration with keen interest, moved through the group, nudging Crispin out of the way, so he could sit next to the little girl with the reed. Crispin smiled in amusement and made way for him.

Syngar took the reed from the girl’s hands and started examining it from every angle, looking through its hollow length, picking up the stick to examine the soft pulp that had been removed, running the stick through the inside to remove some residual bits and finally, putting the reed in his mouth to try breathing through it. His eyes lit up. As he began to remove his boots, Bonny and Kalen started laughing. Caris looked a question at them, but they just laughed harder and, shaking their heads, pointed at Syngar who was heading to the river.

While Caris watched, Syngar stripped down to his underclothes and jumped into the river. He stuck the reed in his mouth and, being careful to leave one end above water, lay down in the river completely submerging himself. Though the water was shallow, it was brown and so Syngar disappeared completely from sight.

Most of the band watched the reed in fascination waiting for Syngar to reappear and report on its efficacy. Crispin, however, turned to the elder who had been sharing their story and began to question him about what changes had occurred in the West over the last couple of years. The man had little to share beyond what he had already said about the tribes who hadn’t appeared at the Metes.

After swimming for a while, Syngar emerged from the water exclaiming how well the reed worked; he lined up a group of children to help him cut reeds from the riverside for him to take with him. As people’s attention began to return to the elders, Crispin asked him to continue his story.

He shook his head sadly, “when the derks were long gone, we hurried back to our village which was to the west of here. There were no survivors.” He paused staring at the ground lost in memory. Everyone sat in silence, Caris’ throat began to hurt as she fought to hold back tears.

Finally, with a shake of his head, he brought himself back to the moment and continued his tale. “We stayed some weeks at our old village but it was too hard for us to raise enough food without our young men and women to work the ground and hunt. We were able to gather some food, as that had always been the job of the elders and children, but that was not enough on its own. The hardest part of staying there, however, was the loneliness. Not only had we lost our children”, gesturing to the young ones he said, “and parents, but as far as we knew there was no one left to the west of us.”

Looking around he explained “You must understand, we were the most eastern tribe from the Great Mete, we had never had contact with anyone from east of the river. We could not make the journey to the Great Mete on our own and even if we did make the arduous journey without enough food, we had little hope that there would be anyone else there. Food would be easier to gather by the river and we hoped to make contact with others from the east, to provide a future for the children.” His voice trailed away.

Quietly, Crispin asked, “You’ve been here almost a year, have you received no help from people passing on the road in that time?”

One of the older women replied, “We have been afraid to approach people, we watch them ride past from the bushes. Some people look at the village in interest but no-one stops.”

Another woman continued, “We cannot stay here. We have tried, but we cannot provide for ourselves. There is no future for the children here. Who will they marry? We must find people, and learn the ways of the east.”

Crispin was looking deeply troubled. With a deep bow to the elders, he said, “Thank you for sharing your story, I wish we could aid you but unfortunately we are not able to escort you at the moment. We will let people know of your presence here, and The King of your plight.”

Getting up with a glance at the position of the sun in the sky, he said almost sharply, “Pack up.” As people began to rise to obey his command, Caris noticed Janen staring at Crispin in open-mouthed anger. Crispin, oblivious to him, called out “Syngar, leave that.” Syngar reluctantly turned his back on the reed he was cutting and hurried over to Crispin. “Teach them to fish, catch up with us by sundown,” Crispin commanded him.

The villagers watched in confused hurt as the band hurriedly packed things away. Caris’ companions handed sacks of grain and other food to the villagers, packing less than they left behind. The villagers accepted the food with solemn thanks, but the light of hope that had begun to shine in their eyes was gone.

As Caris helped pack, she heard Crispin call the female scout with curly blonde hair. “Tilda, you and Bek will ride escort to Syngar. Tell Janen he is to accompany you. See if he will make a scout.” Caris looked with pride at Janen. With his alertness to all around him, she knew he would excel as a scout; she hoped she might be able to prove herself able as a scout also, so she could partner with him as they always had in the past. She watched him as he angrily stuffed things into his saddlebag. She knew what was upsetting him. Caris also was finding it hard to stomach Crispin’s seeming indifference to the plight of these people.