Mist upon the Marsh: The Story of Nessa and Cassie (33 page)

But Nessa, filled with what seemed renewed vigour, flew to her without delay. She fell down before her, and began to examine her for injuries.

“No,” said Cassie, pushing her hands away; but in so doing catching them up in her own. “I’m fine. I’m not hurt.”

Physically unhurt she may have been; but certainly she was not fine. The toll of weeks confined, and so little nourishment taken, could not but be shown upon her haggard countenance. Her eyes, so clear and bright as Nessa remembered, were now dim, and full of clouds. Looking into them was nearly as desolate a task, as looking out upon the fog-filled ground of the vacant camp. Nessa put a hand to her face, and then leant forward to kiss her forehead; but still her gaze was like that of a blind woman’s. She looked directly at Nessa, and clutched trustingly at her hands, but the veil of her sickness was like the thick bank of a storm in a grey sky.

“Why can’t I move,” she asked with a thin smile, “now that you’ve come? I thought that if I ever saw you again, I would jump right up to my feet, and run away from this place. But I can’t, Nessa – and you have to go on without me.”

“Never,” Nessa growled, pulling her close. “I’ll carry you.”

But Cassie seemed not even to hear. She only laid her head heavily against Nessa, and whispered, “I’m so sorry, Nessa. I’m so sorry for what I did.”

Nessa looked down at her, confounded. “Sorry?” she said. “What have you to be sorry for? It’s I who should be sorry! It’s I who should have been here to save you!”

“No,” Cassie muttered, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Nessa, for what I did to you. After Caramon died. You came to me – and I sent you away . . .”

Nessa tried to smile, though tears were creeping thickly into her eyes. “Again,” she said, “I was to blame. What more could you have given – to someone who told you such lies?”

More violently, now, did Cassie’s head swivel round on her neck, expressing her negation of such a statement. “I’ve had a lot of time to think,” she said. “A lot of time to think, in here. Ever since I saw you at St Alban Alley, really; and I knew that I couldn’t even die properly, without seeing you – without saying to you, that I’m sorry. Maybe, if you forgive me, I can . . .”

“Hush!” said Nessa. “Hush all that now. I’m here – and we’re leaving.”

“I can’t,” sobbed Cassie, clinging weakly to Nessa. “I can’t move. I can’t.”

“You don’t need to. Only hold to me tightly – and we’ll run from here.”

Though Cassie did not argue, neither did she look as if she believed. But she clasped her arms round Nessa’s neck, as she changed her shape, and allowed herself to be hefted onto her back. There she curled up tightly, maintaining her grasp, as Nessa started on her way out of the wretched structure. So much did she relish the feel of the cold wind upon her, that she turned her face towards its dark gloom; much, and strangely enough, as the flower does tilt its head towards the sun.

Chapter XLI:

Fire and W
ater

T
he corpse of Qiello lay still upon the floor, with blood puddled all round his massive head. Yet it was possessive, in death, of a countenance much softened, and hardly at all fearsome; and which perhaps served to show that he may very well have proved capable of being the changed beast he wished to be, upon visiting Morachi that unhappy evening so many years ago; and very well what he may even have been, had he not allowed his heart to grow so tainted by hopelessness and hate. Yet it seemed that he had vanquished any and all possibility of a saving fate, when he decided to wreak such unwarranted vengeance upon Nessa. Perhaps he realised his folly, as he stood facing the honest visage of Dahro – and perhaps he did wish at that moment, that he might decide something different. But it was too late. The reciprocating knife of Morachi had found already its target; and there was no undoing what evil he had done. Perhaps – perhaps his heart would have crumbled, in the face of that father’s suffering. Perhaps he thought, in those moments of dissipating light, that he would surely have altered his course, would surely have gone to his sons, and repented of his earlier deeds. Perhaps he would have taken their heads to his breast, and prayed heartily for their own salvation, just as well as his own.

But it was over now. The pendulum had been set into motion; and it swung ever so ominously to and fro, in the vast timepiece that hung then over the heads of all.

Morachi had gone for a moment to sit upon his throne, there at the head of the hall. He sat unwitting of all that surrounded him, holding his head as if it ached, and muttering inaudibly to himself. Every mouth, including Dahro’s, was silent in this brief time.

But finally he rose up – albeit on shaking legs – and faced the crowd. “There is not a moment to lose,” he said; and his voice was just as firm, just as authoritative, as ever. “We must hurry to the aid of the daughter of Dahro – the mate of my son Morkin. Not an effort shall be spared!”

Here Dahro’s eye shone with anguish, while Orin’s muscles in every limb began to bulge and to quiver; and Morkin hung his head in shame. He could not so much as turn to look upon the face of his own father, so ruddy and livid as it was, and contorted with unspeakable fury. He understood no more whence the rage came, from either concern for his own, or his father’s welfare; and he had nothing at all to respond, but to gain his feet silently, and walk to a place beside Dahro.

“The clan of that beast,” said Morachi, nearly whispering now, “must be wholly exterminated. We shall fall down upon them, and strike them every death-blow we can muster. I call now upon all those who march in my ranks – but also any and all who wish to aid them. I will bid no one stay at home, while such a battle does rage.”

Now, it must be mentioned that even the faces of the fighting Endai were rather hung at that moment with a heavy shadow of despondency; and that all those apart from them could really do nothing but look upon one another in astonishment. All in a moment, a great host of them began to shiver, as if anticipating departure. Upon learning that each of their own solitary motives were not without companions, they bowed their heads, and went silently from the hall.

Not a female in the place, save for those of the royal line whose pride would not permit them to flee, wanted a thing to do with the march. They thought primarily of the sole
characteristic of Nessa which had ever been displayed to them – and this was her conceit. They thought of this, and imagined how much more suited that look would be to the countenances of their own sons. And so with heavy sighs, they left, without so much as a look to either Dahro or Ceir.

Ceir attempted to call after them, but could do no more than splutter in her bewilderment. Dahro only laid a consoling hand upon her arm.

“But what of those at Ulo’s Head? Surely we will send for them?”

Here, Dahro and Morachi exchanged a brief but meaningful glance; for, even in their plight of mismatched motives, still each understood completely the other’s mind. They knew the hearts of all three, being Kaegan, Fendon and Silo – and they knew to hope for no aid from that corner. So Morachi only cleared his throat, and went back with his own survey; and Dahro returned to the task of calming his mate.

Remaining in the hall were all five-and-thirty of the fighting Endai, as previously mentioned in the chapter of the children of Modendo, outside the royal line. All these were male.

Aside from them were the fifteen children of Morachi, who rightly belonged to the collection – but also, due to a quiet nobleness doubtless passed from their own worthy father (little as Morachi liked to think him), were present all eleven of the children of Malaya. Inis and Malaya themselves stood at their head; while Belda had assumed the position before her own brood. Morachi took a moment to smile grimly upon their valour.

Aside from these, and the last remaining, were the members of the house of Dahro. Not one of them had stood down. They circled deferentially round Dahro, with stout hearts and stolid expressions. There were Baer and Ima, beside Dahro and Ceir; and Ayo and Ara just opposite. Orin and Dechtire hovered fiercely behind them, standing shoulder to shoulder. It seemed that what bitterness had dwelt in the breasts of some was now vanished, in the face of their old friends’ grief.

And then there were but two. All of the house of Huro had departed – all but Finn and Elia. Perhaps reminiscent of their evening spent with Nessa upon that fallen branch (or perhaps spurred by nothing more than the admirable courage and justness of their hearts), they stood firm, in line with the children of Baer.

But then, at this moment, the absence of Leyra and Faevin could not but be noticed.

“Tell me not that the yellow wretch has forsaken us,” growled Orin. “Leyra is no fighter, I will grant her that – but what of her fiery mate? He shames us all with his disappearance.”

“Craven may he be,” said Morachi, “but we have no time to search for traitors, in an attempt to pull them back amongst us. We shall go with what we have. Now! Lines fall in, behind my lead. We run!”

With amazing swiftness, he darted to the doors of the hall, and flung them open. All the others formed two lines to the rear, and followed without pause, as Morachi took the first step upon the battle quest.

~

The fog went on with its rolling; the beasts went on with their howling; and Nessa went on with her attempt to escape. Now and then, Cassie began to slide off of her back; but she recovered her each time ere she fell, and went on with reassuring speed.

Still she could hear, even after having gone several miles from the settlement, the sharp voices of the wolves behind, converted now to battle cries. She had no doubt that they had come upon Arol’s party; and their current preoccupation did much to relieve her mind of the burden of pursuit.

And yet it seemed, as she went farther on, that the wood all around her had been enveloped in a deep hush. Still there were the sounds of the fight, wafting from afar; but any nearer, and there was nothing to be noted at all. Along this hopeful trail, she thought she saw frequently a dim light sparking before her, as if leading her forth on her path. But, illusory and spurious as is the will-o’-the-wisp, so Nessa should have known that her fortune would not hold; but she suspected no such thing, at first, so encouraged did she feel by the small, flaming lights in the distance. Perhaps it was nothing but the imagining of her tired eyes – or perhaps it was the trickery of the devil himself. Whichever it may have been, its effect was the same.

Presently she looked ahead, and saw that the road lay only some half a mile in the distance. Once there, she might find it easier to evade her enemies; but now surely she hadn’t a chance, what with the thick and troublesome trees all about, towering black and conspiratorial; evincing no sign at all that they stood upon Nessa’s own side, but rather seeming as if they tried to prove that they stood against her. She increased her pace, and dodged on through them, fear causing her breath to come short. She wished that she could whisper to Cassie, to warn her, to make her see; but there was nothing for it. She even thought, by now, that she may have fallen asleep, and could only hurry onward, with a whisper of mortal danger there upon the wind: there in her ear.

The silence could be seen for what it was, now. It was the silence that exists, only just before the siege. There was nothing but the mournful sighing of the tree branches high above. It was as if all had been called upon for quiet; had been faced with a demand for such by a fearsome enemy.

No footfalls yet. But the silence was enough.

She had hoped heartily that their absence might not be noticed, till they had had the chance to put some greater amount of distance between the camp and themselves. But that seemed now impossible. They had been found out; and they must only make the best of what speed Nessa’s legs had regained. She was almost glad of the fact that Cassie lay oblivious, and unafraid. For what was ever the benefit of such fear?

A quarter-mile, and closing the gap.

An eighth of a mile. Closing, closing . . .

And then came the blow. Almost so near as to spring upon the road, Nessa was taken down forcefully, with a brutal shove that drove her some half a foot into the soft ground. Cassie was tossed aside, and cast against a tree. It was clear, that she was wearied presently beyond any manner of assuming false strength; and she made no move. Nessa made a dash towards her, but was halted by the intercession of a sharp set of claws. She was taken up in the paw, pierced painfully, and hurled to the left, where she was caught by a second beast.

The first took Cassie up over his shoulder, and then drew near to Nessa.

“You are a tenacious hellhound,” said Niono. “What have I to do to restrain you? What have I, Endalin?”

He lifted Cassie into the air, and curled his great paw round her neck. Nessa was held too tightly to fight; and so she changed her shape, and cried out. “Stop!” she screamed. “Stop – I beg you!”

Niono changed his grasp to Cassie’s shoulders, pinning her arms so that she could not move; but so that she could breathe again. She heaved great mouthfuls of air, coughing horribly.

“It is clear,” said Niono, “that I cannot trust you, Endalin. You will never fight with us – but perhaps my father will succeed in his mission, and will draw your King to fight us here. I know, now, that you did not kill my father – but still you have broken your word, and for that I will execute the same punishment which my father drew up for you, in the case that you had overtaken him. Perhaps it will comfort my father, too, if this plan against the Endalin King does fail – to know that he caused you this hurt. He must have his revenge in some way.”
             

There came the swipe of a heavy paw against the side of Nessa’s head; and though she fought for a little to retain consciousness, she could not stave off the darkness for long. It came, and took her in, even as Cassie’s screams began to fade into the distance.

~

She woke in the open, surrounded not by the dark and imposing walls of the hut, but rather by the cool and rousing arms of the air.

She leapt to her feet, and looked all about. There came soft chuckling from either side, as she did so; and she saw that she was hemmed into a small circle of ground, by the brothers of Niono.

Yet the beast himself was gone.

“Where is she?” Nessa demanded, turning all around, unwilling to take her eyes from either of the creatures much longer than a second or two. “Where has he taken her?”

“They are far off by now,” said Onelen, kindling the sparks of a small fire before him with a stick. “We will allow you to leave in a while; but it cannot be risked that you should overcome our brother, before he has reached his destination. Doubtless he will wait for you once there, so that you might see with your own eyes, as he rips the limbs from the human girl – one by one.”

Nessa shivered, and shut her eyes for a moment. But while she did so, she noticed, that no sounds of the battle could be detected; and so she cocked an ear.

“What goes there in the distance?” she asked. “Has the fighting ceased?”

“Arol’s company has been subdued,” answered Onelen. “Which left all the more time, really, for this prime joke. Only wait till you hear where the human has been taken!”

“Tell me!” Nessa demanded.

“In time.” He poked again at the fire; but then paused, and added, “But then, perhaps it has been time enough. Very well, Endalin! I will tell you. The human has been taken to your lighthouse.”

Nessa shot to her feet, and changed her shape.

“Go on, then!” said Tilego. “Go on and run!”

The night seemed filled with nothing but air, that in turn seemed nothing but water, upon which Nessa sailed with remarkable speed. There were no obstacles, no
obstructions in her path, nothing at all that could hinder her from her object. She was away from the swamp, quite before she knew it; and was flying upon, without seeing, the path to the Gulf.

She even thought, after a little, that she could detect Niono’s stink upon the wind. She ran all the faster with it there in her nostrils. It felt there was a madness spreading slowly through her heart, that would not be extinguished till she saw Cassie safe. So she hurried on, with the wind at her back, following the trail with all the tenacity of her race. She hardly registered the time that existed between leaving the swamp, and arriving at the sea; but only became more completely aware of what lay about her, as she crunched finally through the wide gravel lot beside the beach.