Page 49 of A Twist of Eternity


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  We arose early on the day of our departure. All our gear had been gathered and laid out in the entrance hall of Dĩmmĩ’s house the previous evening. The entire retinue of the household were there to see us off it seemed. Dĩmmĩ was fussing around giving orders, insisting that each of us had sufficient bread and cheese to stave off any hunger pangs that may come upon us. We also had water bottles, dried tea leaves, cured meat on which to chew and helpings of what Dĩmmĩ called Tarn Bread, which was a very firm flat sweet cake that once softened in water was supposed to give energy by the plenty.

  But there came a time when none of our party or any fussing from Dĩmmĩ could delay our departure any longer. Dĩmmĩ came over to us and said, “now m, friends, dunny stay away from Gwéldølĩn fer too lang, promise me ye’ll return, fo’ m' house will seem empty ‘til that day. Ye look after ye’selves an’ each other, ye hear?” Then with a firm expression and a waving of her finger, “dunny any one o’ ye forget me ye hear, dunny ye make me come alookin’ fo’ ye.” 

  At this she wiped a tear from her eye with the sleeve of her tunic.

  Serinae went up to her and kneeling grasped her in a long hug and whispered in Dĩmmĩ’s ear, “as if we could forget you. I could no longer erase the memory of you from my mind as I could stop myself breathing this sweet air.”

  Dĩmmĩ then went around to each of us in turn and hugged us all. This done she stood back and said, “now be ye gone, afore ye start me acryin’ an’ ablubbin’ again, an’ remember y’ur rooms they be here always as be the welcome of m’ house.” She turned and wiped another tear from her eye as she ushered us out of the door.

  We walked down the street and each of us kept turning round to wave one last time at the gathered host of Dĩmmĩ’s household upon the steps of the most welcoming house I had ever stayed in, until we turned a corner and they were lost to our sight.

  I don’t remember the route we took; my thoughts were of this fare city, the wondrous time we had enjoyed here, of the hospitality, the fun and the good food. I would come back here at some time I hoped, for it had become like a second home to me. But we made our way back across the chasm that surrounded the city on the little applecarts. I gazed back at that fare place; I couldn’t take my eyes from it. I thought of how I would miss its beauty, I thought how I would miss Dĩmmĩ. Then we passed through the last great pinnacle of rock and fare Gwéldølĩn was lost to my view.

  Eventually we arrived to where the regimental company of soldiers were also making ready for the journey north. We joined them in a great hall near to the northern most city gate. The hall was obviously made for this reason as the entire company could fit beneath its high ceiling along with carts and all of their paraphernalia and gear. Many Grûndén were pulling on armour and outer clothing, around them collections of packs and bags, water bottles, weapons, shields and other necessary things made ready for the journey. There was not a lot of talk going on. Several applecarts came in and out of the hall dropping off more sacks and crates. A number of officious looking Grûndén stood around with clip boards checking things as they arrived and asking various officers to sign their paperwork. The Grûndén were a highly organised and disciplined people and they took everything they did very seriously.

  Many horse drawn carts were lined up near to the entrance of the hall, as I looked a number of small and very sturdy looking ponies were led through a doorway leading from an adjoining room or hall which I could just glimpse through the opening. It amused me a little to think that the Grûndén also had bred Grûndén sized ponies. These beasts looked very healthy and were obviously a sturdy little breed, much like the Grûndén themselves I mused. They seemed to be just as hairy to, with long manes and tails. Anyway, the pony teams were led to the carts and hitched up ready to leave. All was prepared and without a spoken word or any shouted order the Grûndén regiment started to fall in, six soldier’s line abreast. We were invited to fall into line behind the main body of the company and in front of the carts towards the rear.

  When everyone was ready a loud chorus of horns sounded four times, each blast was accompanied by the thump of boots upon rock, the clash of gauntleted hands upon shields and the cry of “AYE!” I noticed Łĩnwéé joining in with this traditional departure, I felt the feeling of comradery from all those in the ranks. Following the fourth and last blast of the horn, with a rhythmic clump of steel shod boots the company started to move forward, those behind marched in unison on the spot until it was their turn to move off.

  Almost immediately upon the column being under way a lone voice started to sing. This was quickly taken up by the rest of the company. Some struck armour, or shields with whatever they happened to have in their hands keeping rhythm with the singing. It was a march they sang and although I did not understand any of the lyrics I felt a great pride in that we were part of this well-disciplined company. I thought then what it must have been like to attend an army going into battle many thousands stronger in number than this small company, it really must have been a sight to see first-hand.

  Łĩnwéé was beside me marching along, he was in full voice singing along with his fellow countrymen, the look of pride on his face was also infectious, I found myself joining in with the rousing chorus that could be picked up quite quickly. I looked around at the company, helmets, face masks and long hair obscured faces, but eyes shone with an inner fire that could be seen like white-hot coals through the eye slits of their armour.

  As we filed out of the preparation hall, we wound our way along a roadway where many had gathered to see us off, cheers went up from what I guessed where family and friends of the members of the departing company. They all waved as they cheered us on our way the noise was deafening. But then we entered the final tunnel that led out of the city, it grew darker as we got onto this road, but before long a glow could be seen in front shining down the length of the tunnel as the outside gate was opened to let us pass out of the mountain home of the Grûndén and back into the outside world once again.

  We passed through this gate, not the same one I noticed through which we had entered the fare city so many days before from the south. This northern most gate exited us into a beautiful sun filled morning in the mountains. The air was fresh and had a pleasant chill to it. We marched out of the city into a wide flat valley of alpine meadows a rich green colour interspersed with splashes of colourful wild flowers swaying in the cool breeze. Far in the distance to either side the flat meadows gave way to pine forests that sloped in increasing gradient until they ran up against sheer cliffs that seemed to hang like vast drapes of dark cloth below the snow-capped peaks of the mountains to either side of us.

  I saw the Grâumin, Théøndrĩn and his lady Grâumun Frĩthâ with a number of their house guard. They all saluted us as we marched past. Both Théøndrĩn and Frĩthâ in full dress armour with helms under their arms, battle axes across their backs, for one moment I thought they may be joining us on our journey, but no, they were just here to see us off.

  So we left Gwéldølĩn the city under the mountain, our journey had at last restarted. My melancholy feelings of leaving the city subsided, for the company of Grûndén extended my love for their city, we were not cast out on our own, I felt we took the city with us somehow.

  We marched on most of that day non-stop through the meadows, for the company fed and watered as they marched, they sang a lot of the time, and when they weren’t singing, they told jokes, none of which I could understand and probably a good thing at that. But always before long, one soldier somewhere in the company would raise his voice in song and sing a solo for a verse or two, but always the whole company would join the lone voice and we would be subjected to another rousing Grûndén tune. One time during a lull in the singing I felt an overpowering urge to start singing myself, I remembered a T’Iea marching song that my father had taught me and started to sing it, as I got underway Serinae joined me in the second verse and as before the Grûndén started to bang there shields and breast pl
ates in time to the marching beat. When the song finished there was a rousing cheer from the whole company and I felt my face flush, Serinae laughed out loudly.

  Eventually we passed out of the meadows and dropped down into a rocky valley mostly carpeted with course plants like heathers and gorse. All were in flower and the purple and yellow hues looked as beautiful as the flowers in the alpine meadow we had passed through earlier.

  Occasionally throughout the journey hunting parties would be sent out to hunt for fresh game, Serinae would sometimes join them if she was asked, which was quite often due to her renowned prowess with her bow and no doubt her skills at tracking game. At time we were invited to sit inside one or other of the carts being pulled by the sturdy little ponies, but I always declined. For one thing the interior of the carts looked quite small and compact and I thought I might get a crick in the neck from the confined space. But mostly I wanted to remain out here with the company. I loved the singing and the general feeling of great friendship that prevailed across the host as they marched.

  There seemed to be regular clearings tailor made for the purpose of camping along the route we were taking. I asked Łĩnwéé about these one evening and he explained how these areas had been cleared especially for use by companies that often passed this way. In fact working parties from within our company were dispatched every time we stopped in one of these clearings, firstly to gather wood for the fires but also I found out, to maintain the clearing so that it could be used by other companies going to and from the garrison in the north.

  All of these clearings had a crude but sturdy stone walled building with a roof made from the branches of pine trees positioned somewhere within them, and it was into these that the ponies were led every evening to stable. Each pony had an attending stable hand and these would sleep with the ponies in the stables attending to each ponies needs. In this way the little ponies were well looked after and were always fully refreshed, fed and watered in readiness for pulling the carts the following day.

  One evening the company commander whose name was Commander Grûénnrĩg came amongst us chatting and joking with his company. He stopped and chatted with us for an hour or so inquiring after our comforts. We thanked him warmly for his companionship on the journey and he in turn thanked us for our entertaining singing and hunting abilities. As he sat with us I asked him about the lands that we were going to travel through north of the garrison. He looked at me and shook his head. Then explained that north of the garrison the trees grew few and growth was mainly stunted bushes of harsh plants with sharp thorns that would tear at the skin if you ventured too close. The narrow isthmus of land that bridged between the continents was much like this. Then beyond the land bridge there lay the northern continent, a desolate wasteland. The Grughanååven. Here it seemed there was no water to be found just pools of noxious chemicals and biting insects that would suck the blood from every vein. Then when this landscape ended it gave way to cold wind blown mountain wastes where nothing grew except for small lichen like growth that huddled close to the ground. Commander Grûénnrĩg called this mountainous region the Smòlt Erûûn, then he said that still further north treacherous ice fields started; although this time of year they would have shrunk sufficiently for them not to bother us much. The only permanent ice in this area was to be found higher in the mountains and in the many massive glaciers that carved their way slowly and unstoppable through the landscape down to the cold black sea water of the northern ocean. He told us that the further north we travelled at this time of year the longer the days would become. Eventually we would find no night time at all, this was the land of the never ending day he said. But in the winter it would become the land of the never ending night. I wondered where in all these barren landscapes being described to us the Ognods made their home if they indeed originated from these parts at all. Maybe the historians had made a mistake and the Ognods came from somewhere completely different. But then I doubted that an army tens of thousands strong and each individual twice the height and size of any T’Iea could be hidden for very long anywhere else in the world. 

  After the sixth day of travel we came as usual to another of the wayside clearings. But as we approached, camp fires and the noise of a large company of others could be heard already there. As we approached we could see that in this clearing there stood another company of Grûndén, similar in size and looks to our own company. The more I looked the more I came to the conclusion that this company was identical to ours, the only difference being that these comprised only of Grûndén, no T’Iea, Pnook or human men stood amongst the throng. The wayside clearing here was different in that it was larger than the others we had found and had two brick built building instead of the usual one. As we approached within a certain distance a horn was blown from within our company and we heard a distant retort from another horn in reply.

  We were ordered to halt and our commander walked forward with two escorts towards the new company. What I assumed to be the other company’s commander also walked forth with his two escorts and the two groups of Grûndén met half way between the two companies. Our commander took a rolled parchment from a leather tube held by one of his aids, this he gave to the other commanding officer. The parchment was unfurled and read, then the two commanders saluted each other and shook hands warmly whilst clapping each other on the back and shoulder, there was a brief exchange of words, we were too far away to hear anything of what was said, but the two commanders then embraced and a great cheer went up from both companies with a great deal of shield bashing. Thus I assumed we had met with the retiring company our soldiers had been sent to relieve. 

  So that night this larger clearing was host to two similar sized companies of Grûndén soldiers all singing and shouting and having a raucous time. I guessed that news was being exchanged and stories told, inevitably a lot of drinking was going on and games of various sorts were being played. These comprised everything from card games played on the remaining trunks of felled trees, to soldiers stripped to the waist wrestling, over which many a wager was lost or won. There was even a strange game called Féttérbòlt, which seemed to comprise of two opposing teams of about twenty, although various other casual players seemed to join and retire at will. But all were stripped to the waist each having either a red or a green cross painted onto their bellies and backs or even across their faces and all chasing a sheep’s stomach fully inflated with ale which was punched, kicked and generally chased after by every member of each team. This must have taken a degree of strength for the full sheep’s stomach must have weighed quite a lot. A great cheer went up every time one or other of the teams managed to place the sheep stomach down onto a designated tree stump onto which had been painted a cross motif, one red, one green. The winning team apparently was the one that managed to place the stomach onto the opposing team’s stump the more times over a designated period. To me it seemed that the winning team was the one that had managed to survive the punching and kicking! This game looked too rough for me, more than once a groaning participant was carried out of the fray with a bloody nose or gash to the head or a limp looking arm that could well have been broken. 

  At one stage in the evening I walked over to where the injured Féttérbòlt players were being laid and suitably sedated with large mugs of ale. I offered my services as a healer. At first I was met with much scepticism, but after I had administered successfully to several players they all cheered me as they realised that after being healed they were free and able to re-join the game again!

  After a while the game ended for the bloated sheep’s stomach eventually sprouted a leak and deflated back to a limp piece of soft leathery material. The remaining players wandered off mainly in the direction of the ale tent all congratulating each other on their great prowess at the game. A couple of players I recognised as having been healed at one time or another during the game decided it would be a good idea to have me join them in the ale tent. I tried to get out of going, being reminded of the time in Gwéldølĩn
when Jon had stayed up to have a social drink with Łĩnwéé and his cronies, but they just became more and more insistent to the point where I felt I had no choice for to do otherwise may well offend them greatly. So off I went much to their delighted cheers. I was beginning to wonder what I was letting myself in for when a soldier still fully dressed in armour came up to my new found companions and me and requested that I followed him, my companions complained bitterly, no doubt disappearing at having their entertainment taken away, but he was most insistent and eventually I was led off towards a cordoned off area of the clearing where I could see Serinae with Łĩnwéé and the rest of our friends in the company of several Grûndén officers including the two garrison commanders.

  As I was ushered into the clearing the commander of the company that we had travelled up north with bid me a good evening and introduced me to the other commander who of course commanded the company returning back to Gwéldølĩn. He stood and in Grûndén fashion bowed low.

  Serinae then turned to me and said, “hello Mini how was your game of Féttérbòlt?”

  I tried to explain that actually I was not playing the game just trying to do my best to rectify the injuries caused by it.

  At this both commanders laughed heartily. Serinae went on to explain that the commander of the departing company had some interesting things to report and she wanted us all to hear them to.

  The commander was introduced to me as commander Théròun and he began to explain the situation here at the northern garrison over his six-month tour of duty. Firstly, he jovially goaded our commander saying how lucky he was to be doing the summer stretch this term. I learnt later that there were three independent regiments of Grûndén that manned the northern garrison, each regiment taking it in turns to spend six months of each year up here. In this way each regiment had an autumn/winter posting followed by a spring/summer posting with a twelve month break in between back in Gwéldølĩn where they had leave and time with their families. He explained that next winter after our company left, commander Hârrgsòn who was the third commander of the third regiment currently on leave in Gwéldølĩn, would face what was likely to be a hard and troubled time here at the garrison. Our commander Grûénnrĩg, asked him to explain further.

   “Well when we first arrived we discovered that the garrison had lost a patrol o’ soldiers about six weeks before we arrived. They had gone out on a routine patrol north up the land bridge, they were to travel for three days which would have taken ‘em t’ the border o’ the Grughanååven, at the base o’ the Smòlt Erûûn then return t’ the garrison, so a round trip o’ roughly six days in total, but they never returned. We sent other patrols out t’ search fo’ ‘em but no a trace could be found.

  “Did you ever find trace of the missing patrol?” I asked.

  Commander Théròun shook his head, “nay lass, ne’er a trace has been found t’ this day, and that were over six months ago.”

  After a brief period of quiet thought he added, “an’ that’s not all, there be lights in the night sky far t’ the north, these lights be green and blue in colour and extend from horizon to horizon, sometimes if the conditions be right ye can see ‘em from here in the garrison, but they become much more apparent the further north ye go. They look like thick sheets or curtains ahangin’ in the night sky, ne’er still, always shiftin’ about as if blown to and fro by some strong wind.”

  “Ah, those are just northern lights,” said Serinae, “they are a natural spectacle, forces of nature due to the arcane magnetic properties of the world at its poles, they are quite harmless.”

  At this Théròun frowned at Serinae and said, “my lady I have seen the lights of which you speak many times, I know ‘em well, but they be not normally seen this far south, ne’er before have I seen the northern lights from this garrisons walls. Believe me when I say that these lights o’ which I now speak are nat the northern lights, or if they are then they are a greatly increased version of them with far greater powers involved in their making.”

  This was the last thing to be said, for the two commanders took their leave to discuss more private matters and conduct a formal handover of the garrison. So we left and decided that we should get some sleep.

   

 
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