Episode 43





The morning light found them exhausted and reluctant to wake up. They all had aches and pains and found it hard to move about. There was no more manna either so things were looking pretty bleak. Worst of all, Righteous, was in a bad way. His breathing was ragged and he found it hard to keep his balance once he was up. The crippled Ahram fared little better, hooting in pain at the slightest movement he made, but before they had even finished yawning the Ahram were on the move, urging them on.

“How is he supposed to walk like that? He’s going to die,” said Rose.

As if in answer, the Ahram waved at the mountain ahead of them and indicated that they should move.

“C’mon,” said Dutch. There’s nothing for it but to follow them and help Righteous as best we can.”

But after a few tentative steps, Righteous became steadier on his feet and amazingly began to keep with the others. This was just as well because no-one was really strong enough to support him.

In the beginning they made good progress, happy that they were all still alive, but soon their energy began to flag again. On and on they marched, heads down and dispirited, they watched the miles pass by beneath their feet, hardly aware that they were walking…one foot automatically coming down in front of the other. They had long since ceased to notice where they were. The sun was already beginning to heat up the stone to oven temperature, the shale and sharp flints burning the soles of their feet. The Ahram seemed oblivious to the heat though, but the humans were dripping with sweat as it leached the last little bit of moisture from their parched bodies. Rose too, like Sweet Mary, had come to the end of her endurance and would have cried continuously had she enough moisture left in her for tears. The only thing that kept her going was Angelo. Had it not been for him she would have given up a long time ago.

When the Lead Ahram finally hooted, the exhausted humans stopped walking and their eyes began to come back into focus.

“Are we there?” asked Sweet Mary in a daze. “Are we there?”

One by one they lifted their eyes, expecting to see the end of their journey; the end of their pain. What they saw was a sheer cliff-face hundreds of metres high ahead of them.

“I ain’t climbing that,” said Rose, trying to make light of the horror that confronted them. “Not with my hips.”

“They must have a plan,” said Angelo. “There’s no way anyone could climb that.” But all future conversation was cut short as they were urged onwards again by the curt coughs of the Ahram. Picking their way through the rubble and scree at the foot of the cliff they finally came to an opening in the cliff wall.

 

A cave is something that not everyone will experience in their lifetime. It is dark and other-worldly. The gloomy closeness after being out in the open air can be intensely claustrophobic. On the other hand, it may feel like a cosy hide-away from the rough elements outside. A contradiction of opposites, it is a place that is either welcoming or dreadful. It is simultaneously a safe harbour and a dangerous trap. In mythology it has rightly been assigned the place of a transition point between this world and the next. It is a womb or a tomb, something to be born from or something to be buried in.

As they staggered into the cave Rose became painfully aware of these conflicting attributes. Indeed she was out of the hot sun and the cool air enveloped her like a balm, but this trip was so full of good news bad news that she didn’t feel as thankful as she normally would and kept a sharp eye out for the bad news which she thought would come in the form of the humans being a tasty breakfast morsel or else a sacrifice for some Ahram ritual.

Once inside, the Ahram swords glowed brightly enough for them to get an idea of where they were. The cave was nothing more than a large crack in the rock face, with pebbles and flints on the floor. Immediately the Ahram began digging in the ground at the rear of the cave, unearthing a large cloth-bound bundle that turned out to be a hidden cache of manna. The Ahram started handing around handfuls of the stuff and everyone sat down with a thankful sigh and ate until they couldn’t eat anymore, fairly stuffing it into their mouths.

The Ahram, not quite as ravenous as the humans, began pulping a large amount of it into paste by grinding it on a flat piece of rock. They worked deftly with their nimble fingers, taking great care not to spill any. When they had enough they spread it upon the wounds of Righteous and the crippled Ahram. Righteous hardly flinched when the paste was applied, but the little Ahram didn’t take it so well, hooting in agony at each application. His hoot was different to the others. It sounded like he had sinus problems, or a cold, because it came out in a nasal sounding ‘Noot.’

 “Poor fellow,” said Angelo. “He can’t even hoot properly. Maybe it’s because of the pain. But at least we can give him a name now. I vote we call him Noot.”

 

“Be that I find it hard not to look at these strange animals without a shudder. Art thou perhaps erring in not leaving them to die? They would be hard pressed to survive anywhere. Look to them there – ugly creatures. Tiny, inadequate mouths, thin spindly legs useful only in that they are easy prey and can’t run away. Hands and arms like bludgeons; most unsuitable and unattractive. And what if they harbour some disease or plot of ill within their bowels?”

“Truly, at first they were novel in the finding, but now they surely be just danger in the making. Thou sayest right, and yet I sense they are strangely necessary. Times are in uncertain flux – all information is valuable, all events portentous. These things are not for throwing away…and who knows, they may have their uses.”

“Certainly the big one has proved such in saving Crouch. That is his fortune – to be given a thankfulness. Look how he fawns over that foolish animal. Brave, like a brute, but foolish.”

“Perhaps we shall let him keep it as a pet. It is, after all, the strongest of the bunch though he be as black as a demon. I will instruct Crouch to observe the creatures with a most careful scrutiny and report to us. Let it be known to him that he is responsible for their welfare and their continued captivity. If anything happens to them he will be brought up before the council.”

 “But we must also keep other guard on them. That they could arouse the forest to such anger does not bode well. There is more to them than meets the eye….though there is plenty of them that meets the ear.”

“Indeed, I do so wish for their silence. They jabber like tree-rats. One is almost of the impression that they communicate, which of course is absurd in such primitive beasts.”

“Indeed, but that is so with all non egg-bearers.”

 

The manna turned out to be a miracle cure. Within hours it had eased the pain and stopped most of the bleeding on the two unfortunates. The humans began to be a trifle more chirpy at this wonderful new development; things weren’t so bad after all. Even Sweet Mary was smiling and chatting with the others, although the tension between her and Dutch still made things uncomfortable. Though they pretended nothing was wrong, they continued to avoid eye contact with one another.

Throughout the day everyone dozed and rested in the cool cave, waking occasionally to eat some more manna and retire again. The Ahram seemed in no hurry now that they were safe from the ice and the swamp and had plenty of food. Once again they had set their swords up in a circle against the walls of the cave to provide light and heat.

The night fell outside and the cave grew dark and dusky. On all settled the evening like a blanket of bliss. Nary a dream was out and about, and certainly no nightmares had the strength to roam abroad and trouble the band of travellers, not while the anaesthetic qualities of the manna were doing their healing work.

The next morning was full of lumps and bumps and stiff and sore joints. It took ages for the humans to get their muscles working again. Righteous and Noot however had turned a corner and looked well on the way to mending. Noot had become very attached to Righteous since he had saved his life. Almost like a pet, he was always hovering around the blind man in the hope of being of assistance.

“I think you’ve got a friend for life now, Righteous,” said Angelo. “And I think they owe us one, which is going to come in handy. You saved one of theirs…that must be worth something. But it depends on how much store they set by a life.”

“And he has saved me…in a manner of speaking. We seem to have formed a rather strange bond, and it seems I am somehow able to read his emotions and thoughts – to a certain degree - and these give me a vague sense of my surroundings. He is like a beacon transmitting information to me as we go. I don’t feel so…blind anymore, or so useless. It grieved me more than I can say when I lost the voices.”

“That’s my fault really,” said Angelo, “for taking you away from your home in the first place.”

“Yeah, and it’s my fault for getting us all into this mess,” mumbled Dutch under her breath.

“Yes,” added Rose very emphatically. “And it’s all your faults for keeping my son safe at home, and for bringing Angelo and me together and giving me a new lease on life,” she said, smiling at Angelo and laying her head against his arm. “So thank you.”

“Well,” interjected Sweet Mary. “This hasn’t been the best trip ever, but I’m glad I met all of you. I’ve never had so many friends.” Then she added in an undertone. “I really could do with a bath though. I’m feeling very uncomfortable.” She looked pleadingly at Rose when she said this.

“I know,” said Rose. “But I’m sure we’ll find some water sooner or later.”

An imperious hoot from the leader let them know that it was time to move on. With a few moans and groans they set off again, this time down a tunnel at the rear of the cave, going deeper into the mountains. This tunnel was so narrow they had to walk in single file, three Ahram lighting the way in front with their swords and two bringing up the rear. For a long while they walked in silence, Dutch in front of the group of humans and Sweet Mary hobbling along at the rear. Righteous, although not fully recovered, could sense her distress, and without her permission he swept her up into his arms and carried her quite easily.

“You shouldn’t be too hard on Dutch,” boomed Righteous’ voice in Sweet Mary’s ear. Even at a whisper he could be deafening. “She loves you very much even if she doesn’t show it much. She carries a big burden.”

“I know.”

“And I think she depends on you more than you know. She’s feeling pretty down since you stopped talking to her.”

They walked on in silence while Sweet Mary thought this over.

“In other words you gotta stop sulking girl,” said Righteous in a thick Rasta accent.

“I’m not sulking,” protested Sweet Mary and stuck out her lower lip petulantly.

“But you’re making it clear you’re not happy, and that’s not good. We gotta stick together.”

“I suppose,” she pouted, hating the thought of having to apologise. With thoughts about Dutch going round and round in her head, along with the gentle swaying motion of Righteous’ body as he walked, Sweet Mary dozed off and fell into a deep sleep.

WHAT AWAITS OUR INTREPID TAVELLERS DOWN IN THESE CAVES? BE SURE TO FIND OUT NEXT WEEK.