Page 6 of Refugees


  Chapter 5

  Mud - Amanki

  “Can you move your fingers? Can you flap your feet?” I heard a woman’s melodic voice saying, from what seemed like far away. Slowly, I realized that she was talking to me. And then a sudden, shocking thought came to me: I wonder if I can? What if I can’t?

  Through a fog, I decided to try. I concentrated hard and attempted to move my fingers.

  “He moved!” a child exclaimed.

  And then the world came into view. There were several people in robes towering over me, staring. They all seemed to be talking about me like I wasn’t there. I closed my eyes, still dazed, and I must have faded out again.

  Later, I opened my eyes momentarily and strained to sit up.

  “Don’t try to get up,” the melodic voice said gently. “Lie still.”

  I lay back down and let my eyes close. Soft fingers began spreading what felt like soothing mud on my left temple. For a moment, it was as if I were once again a small boy, being comforted by mother’s hands gently smoothing my forehead.

  When I tried again to sit up, subtle pressure from the gentle hands held me back. “Don’t try to move.”

  Then, it all came back to me: the mud beast's axe, my mother’s feet…I pictured the horror of the night and I wanted to lie back down and never get up. But then I remembered my escape in the boat with Baskrod.

  “Baskrod?” I asked.

  “His wound is deep,” the gentle voice said, “but he should live. The Glider cloth of his tunic allowed you to slide the arrow out without doing further damage. He was asking for you.”

  I opened my eyes wide and saw a young and very beautiful woman’s face, framed in auburn hair. Her skin was as smooth as a pond on a windless day, and her eyes were deep green pools. Her face was close to mine. The full import of what she was saying started to sink in to my mind.

  “Asking…then he’s awake?”

  “He is sleeping now,” she said, “but he has awakened from his deep sleep, if that is what you are asking.”

  “Thank you! Oh, thank you!” I looked around and saw Baskrod sleeping in the corner with white cloths wrapped around his chest and back.

  Looking around, I found that I was lying in a courtyard, typical of those in houses in Webby villages. I recognized the bearded man and his wife standing nearby. Several boys were gathered with them, staring at me. The man’s sling was still wrapped around his head. His full beard and dark disheveled hair were streaked with grey. His wife’s thick, waist length hair was gathered back from her lined forehead, tied at the crown of her head and fell down her back neatly in seven long braids. I knew that meant that she had borne seven children. Unlike her husband, she was not scowling at me, but bore a look of concern. She stood straight in her long striped robe, holding her shoulders back, which gave her an air of confidence. Although she must have been middle aged, her symmetrical features, arched eyebrows, and large soft eyes still gave her an attractive appearance.

  “Thank you for believing me,” I said to the wife.

  They all just looked at me. She nodded with a slight smile.

  “How long have I been here?” I asked

  “Soon the sun will rise,” the man announced.

  “Oh, no! We need to get out of here!” I grasped my head, alarmed at how much time had passed. “I’m fine, I mean, I just have a headache.” I turned to the lovely young woman, whom I assumed was the healer, for confirmation, “Right? I’m fine, aren’t I? We all need to go!”

  This time the healer helped me sit up. “Yes,” she said calmly. “You need rest, but you should be fine. Here, try eating this. This family has kindly provided food for you.” She handed me a fig cake. I gobbled it down hungrily.

  “Delicious. Thank you,” I said between bites. It tasted just like the cakes my mother had often prepared for me.

  If we just rest, none of us will be fine. But I kept my thoughts in the jar for now, realizing that I must first get back to the boat with Baskrod. To do that, I needed these people to continue to help me, which meant that I must not agitate the bearded man.

  “Please help us to the boat. I must take Baskrod with me.”

  “Baskrod needs to sleep,” the healer answered.

  The man approached and asked me menacingly, “Whom are you running from? Did you steal those supplies?”

  I remembered the sting of his flail and chose my words carefully. Although I thought about lying to him, I didn’t want to lie to his wife. Anyway, I had never been a good liar, so instead, I tried to choose the right way to tell the truth.

  “Strangers attacked our village. Baskrod had loaded the boat with supplies because he had information that we might be in danger. We have harmed no one. Please, help me get Baskrod back to his boat. I must take him…to Tzoladia.” The city seemed like a place that existed only in my dreams, but it was where Baskrod had been urging me to go. I tried to sound confident.

  The wife watched me closely. I waited.

  “So, the rumors about some danger coming our way…Is this boy saying it’s all true?” the man asked, becoming even more agitated.

  “Yes, and I believe him,” the wife stated, in her calm but firm manner. Her husband gave her a perplexed look but said nothing.

  “If you move Baskrod, it must be done carefully,” the young herbalist warned.

  “I have no choice,” I said.

  Once again the wife of the bearded man came to my assistance. “We must do as he says,” she said. “There are mysteries here beyond our understanding.”

  “The old man must rest,” the herbalist repeated.

  I realized then, that she had never said that we could not go. “Once he is lying in the boat, I will not move him,” I agreed.

  “We have shown these neighbors our hospitality. Now, it is our duty to help them on their way. Boys, carry the old man to his boat, carefully, but quickly,” the kind wife ordered, “then hurry home.” Nobody questioned her decision. I was surprised at the way that even her husband seemed to follow her directives.

  The four older sons, who looked to be nearly my age, took the corners of the large reed mat that Baskrod lay upon and carefully carried him out the door, following their father. I started to stand, but the room seemed to spin, so I had to sit back down for a moment. Soon, I was able to get up without feeling dizzy, and I followed the others.

  The wife had stepped outside while the gentle healer was standing just inside the door. When I stopped to thank the healer, she simply bent her head, eyes down. Then she briefly lifted her eyes, smiled, and said, “I only did my duty.”

  I wanted to stay forever in the oasis of her smile, but I forced myself to leave. Somehow, I needed to warn this lovely young woman and the others of the dreadful tide of raiders that might soon be flowing their way. But I had to do find a way to tell them that did not endanger Baskrod.

  As I walked out the door, the wife took me by the arm and whispered almost tenderly, “The new star has come. I know who you are, and you must hurry.” I thought I must have heard her wrong, or that my mind was still muddled from the flail, but she pressed a stone seal into my hand and said, “I have held this for this very hour. You must take it now, Amanki. May Adon be with you.”

  Without thinking, I closed my fingers on the cylinder seal as the wife headed back into the house. A chill swept over me. Adon was the god Baskrod had taught me to worship. I did not know that any other Webbies worshiped him.

  “Wait!” I called after her in a hoarse voice, “Please believe me. You must get out of here. You are all in great danger. Blow the ram’s horn, run for the boats, and escape.”

  “Thank you,” the woman whispered. She smiled warmly, causing dimples to show in her cheeks. “Do not worry. We too will flee. But first, you must hurry.” She showed no signs of fear but motioned for me to go. As I took off to catch up with the others, I heard her exclaim, “Simak, run tell Lim to get the boat ready, now! Stay with it, and we will join you as quickly as we can!”


  At last, someone believed me! By the time I caught up with the older boys, their father had already brought Baskrod’s boat through the thick reeds, close to the canal edge. When he saw me, he silently started back toward his house, while the boys lifted Baskrod into the boat. Although their webbed feet helped them not to slip in the wet mud, the maneuver was difficult. I started into the water to assist them.

  Then suddenly, from the north, a sound like thunder broke through the stillness. The mud beasts were coming.

 
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