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Authors: Steve Augarde

BOOK: The Various
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Chapter Eleven

THEY STOOD ON
the bank of the stream, the girl and the horse, bathed in the hot sunshine that fell upon the quiet woodland. And it
was
quiet. No bird sang, and no creature stirred. Only the faint trickle of spring-water broke the silence. Midge rubbed the grazed skin on her neck and shoulder blades, as she looked about her. How tangled and confused everything was.

The trees looked ancient, twisted and overgrown. Many were dead, and huge moss-covered limbs lay on the ground, or were propped up at crazy angles against trunks overgrown with ivy and creepers. The thick wall of brambles and briars extended far into the woods, surrounding the bases of the trees, and sprouting in great clumps along the banks of the spring. A strong smell of wild garlic and leaf-mould hung on the still air.

Away from the spring, the ground rose, rocky and quite steep, and through the distant cedar trees, Midge could see the beginnings of open ground. She turned to Pegs, who had been watching her as he rested his aching limbs.

‘Why have you brought me here?’ she said. ‘What are we doing?’

Come. We will walk together, and I will talk as we go
. The horse moved off in the direction of the high ground and began to pick his way, slowly and painfully, between the bushes and clumps of briars. Midge followed, walking beside Pegs when space allowed, and falling behind when the path grew narrow.

Do not be afraid, Midge, for I bring you here as a friend, and no harm will come to you. I quizzed you before as to whether you knew aught of the little people – known to your kind as ‘fairies’. Today you shall meet with the forest dwellers, those who live in this protected place. Five tribes there are, and they may be all that remain of the little people – the Various Impish Tribes who dwelt in this land long before the Gorji came to claim it. You are of the Gorji, Midge, the giants and ogres who now rule the earth. The Impish tribes – that you call fairies – are known to themselves as the Various, and are descended from the great travelling tribes of Elysse. They have become trapped here, who once travelled where the wind took them, and they may soon be no more. This wood, that they call the Royal Forest, is their last home. By chance and good fortune it has been spared – for the Gorji do not enter here. Now your tribe would destroy the forest, so you say. And therefore the Various will be destroyed also
.

I am taking you to speak with the Queen and her Counsel, that you may explain to them their likely fate, and they will see for themselves, and believe, what is to be. In doing so, I take great risk – for you may bring your kind down upon us – yet so shall they come if I do nothing. And it may be that you can help us. If not, it will make matters no worse
.

Midge listened to this in amazement, completely dumbfounded. And when Pegs stopped to rest for a moment, she still found no words to say. Little people – what did Pegs call them – the
Various
? Living in her uncle’s woods? It wasn’t possible! Yet when she looked at Pegs – a miniature horse with wings – she knew that all things were possible. She thought of the TV programme she had watched with Uncle Brian, and the closing words – ‘there are other worlds, worlds within this world . . . it is an absolute fact that there are creatures on this planet that have never been seen by man . . .’ And so it was true – though she suspected that the author of those words was thinking of deep-sea life rather than flying horses. She knew so little, understood so little. She didn’t even know how he had come to be trapped in a barn, behind a closed door.

The horse was looking at her expectantly – waiting for some sort of reaction. ‘Sorry,’ she said, lamely. ‘I was just thinking.’

The urgent thrum of a woodpecker sounded in the distance, and it seemed to catch the horse’s attention. At any rate, he spoke no more for a while.

In silence, they climbed up into the rocky area. Here grew a few stunted hawthorn trees and buddleia bushes, but for the most part the soil was dusty and the ground stony. There were caves, Midge realized, four or five entrances of which were visible among the bushes and the boulders. She then saw, with a little shock of excitement, the first few signs of habitation. A couple of small pots stood by the mouth of one of the caves – they seemed to be made of some kind of dull metal, like the pewter mugs she had seen on the dresser at Mill Farm – and a third lay on its side in a stain of dark liquid, that trickled among the flaky bits of grey shale and collected in a small pool. It was apparent that the vessel had only just been knocked over. She noticed, also, a few damp scraps of coloured cloth, orange and mustard yellow, draped on one of the hawthorn bushes, as though lately hung out to dry. Staring into the mouth of one of the caves, she thought she saw some spark of movement in the darkness, a brief glint of light on metal – or an eye perhaps? – but nothing more. The humid air hung still about them, quiet and tense.

Pegs paused again for breath and followed Midge’s gaze.
Here dwell the Troggles and the Tinklers – the underground tribes – though I doubt you will see aught of them, this day. They are timid folk and seldom come out till moonrise. Cave-Dwellers they are now, though once they were of the water-tribes, Naiad and Wisp. They broke from the water-tribes,
and
came to these woods long before the others. Troggles and Tinklers they became, by their own naming. The Gorji were few on the levels then, but when their number increased, the last of the water-folk – the tribes called Naiad and Wisp – were forced to find refuge in the forest also. Lastly came the Ickri, the wandering hunters, tree-dwellers, returning to these lands after many generations absence. The Troggles and the Tinklers then dug tunnels, like coneys, and withdrew to themselves, living nobody knows how – for no other tribespeople enter their domain. They fashion strange devices, gewgaws and baubles, and are altogether a most curious folk
.

Midge stared in amazement at the little cluster of caves, and was desperate to hear more of the lives being lived in such an unlikely place. Her head was filled with questions, and her tongue was loosened at last.

‘But how – how do they make things? And what things? And what do they dig with? Do they have tools? Shovels?’ She was reminded of Snow White, and wondered whether the cave-dwellers were like the seven dwarves. She imagined little bearded men running around with pickaxes, digging, and singing ‘Hi Ho!’ Ridiculous! But what
were
they like, then? She wanted to see.

The horse was already moving on, however, climbing up towards the plateau beyond the thinning tree line.
Come. There is much to do
.

Pegs stood in the long dry grass at the edge of the Great Clearing, catching his breath, and waiting for Midge to draw level. The girl had become distracted
by
one of the Ickri dwellings, a wicker pod hanging among the sycamores, and had stopped to stare at it – calling out to him for explanations. ‘What’s this? Pegs? What’s this thing for?’ How loud the child was. Her voice rang through the silent, watchful trees and echoed around the deserted clearing. Pegs waited as the girl came swishing through the grass, twigs snapping beneath her feet. She sounded like a forest fire.

‘Pegs,’ she said, breathless and excited, ‘There’s a big basket thing back there, hanging in the trees. What is it?’

Benzo’s dwelling
.

‘What?’

It is a pod – a dwelling. The home of an Ickri hunter
.

‘You mean someone lives in there?’

The sound of the woodpecker, insistent, commanding, rattled once more across the clearing and Pegs looked up. Good. The Queen and Counsel were gathering.

Yes. Someone lives in there – and has likely gone deaf from your asking. Maid, you must temper your voice. We are unused to such clatter. Remember where you are, move and speak gently, and all will be well. Many eyes are watching you, and many ears are listening. Many hearts are fearful of your presence. Be calm, and soft and easy. All your questions will presently be answered
.

Midge looked around apprehensively. The thought that she was being watched had not occurred to her, and she immediately felt self-conscious.

‘Sorry,’ she whispered. ‘But where are we now?’ She
gazed
along the green expanse of the clearing and suddenly realized that it was cultivated. How unobservant she was! At first glance she had not registered the fact that the clearing was, in reality, like a big plantation. All manner of greenery – potato plants, carrot tops, lettuces, and onions stretched out before her, and in the distance she could see pea sticks and the wigwam rows of runner beans.

‘Who does all this?’ she gasped. ‘It’s like – I don’t know, like an allotment or something.’ That sounded silly. ‘I mean, I can’t believe that all this is going on in the middle of Uncle Brian’s old woods.’

They were standing at the southern end of the Great Clearing. In the distance, Pegs could just see the hazel bushes that marked the entrance to Counsel Clearing. He wondered what was happening there. Much confusion, no doubt. Perhaps he should allow the Queen and Counsel a little more time to prepare themselves.

He turned his attention to the Gorji maid once more:
This is the Great Clearing – tended by the Naiad tribe for the most part. Here are grown the crops that the Various depend upon for their existence. The summer has been kind, but the recent winters have been hard, and the soil grows thin . . .

Raim had found it relatively easy to convince Maglin of the truth of the news he bore and of the need for swift action, but Maglin was finding it much harder to convince the Queen of the same. The Ickri General swept down from the Royal Pod in exasperation and stamped over to Aken, who was waiting by the Rowdy-Dow
tree
. Little-Marten was already at his post, seated high upon the Perch.

‘Sound general alarum,’ shouted Maglin to the Woodpecker, ‘and be quickly at it. A Gorji has entered the forest. All to conceal themselves. Then sound Queen and Counsel – summoned to Counsel Clearing. Once you are done, get out of it and hide yourself. Jump to it, fellow!’ Little-Marten jumped. ‘We’ll see if
that
will shift the old wosbird from her bed,’ added Maglin, sourly.

He spoke to his captain amid the sharp rattle of the clavensticks. ‘Aken. The Naiad horse has returned, and has brought a Gorji maid for company, if you please. What can the hemmed animal be about? We must prepare ourselves as best we may. Find what company of archers you can and get to the trees, as close to the Queen as you be able. Tell Scurl to leave the West Wood and come over to the East. No action till you hear it from me. Go.’

Maglin ran back to the Royal Oak where Raim stood next to the Queen’s guards, awaiting further instruction. ‘Raim, make swift return to South Wood and watch for Pegs and the Gorji. Be Glim there also? Well and good. Bring further warning to Counsel Clearing when they draw near. No attack, mind. If the chi’ is unprotected, as you say, then we may deal with her when we learn more of Pegs’ intention.’

Maglin finally addressed the Ickri guards. ‘Stay at your post, bows ready, arrows notched. The Queen may descend, or,’ the General muttered something beneath his breath, ‘she may not.’ He turned and
made
his way towards the Counsel Pods where Ardel was the first of the Elders to begin a shaky descent of the willow ladder.

‘Maglin!’ It was the imperious voice of Ba-betts, calling him from the entrance of the Royal Pod. She had apparently decided to sit up and take notice after all. The General muttered a few more things beneath his breath and began to retrace his footsteps.

Having given the Gorji maid as much information regarding the forest and its inhabitants as time allowed, Pegs now attempted to prepare her for their arrival at Counsel Clearing. He had already spoken of the separate tribes, explained that the Ickri were hunters, winged, and able to fly after a fashion, that the Naiad were farmers, for the most part; and that the Wisp were fishers. Now he needed to tell of the Queen and her Counsel.

It is certain that you will meet with the Counsel Elders, and likely that you will meet with the Queen. The Elders are the eldest members of the Ickri, Naiad and Wisp tribes. They are named Crozer, Ardel and Damsk. The Queen is named
 . . .

‘What about the Troggles and the . . . Tim . . . Tinklers?’ said Midge. ‘Don’t they have Elders too? Will they be there as well?’

The Elders are of the upper tribes. There are no cave-dwellers on the Counsel
.

‘Why not? That doesn’t seem very fair.’

It is not for me to judge such matters. The Queen is named
 . . .

‘It sounds to me as though the cave-dwellers are treated rather badly,’ Midge persisted. ‘First they have to put up with other tribes invading their forest, then they have to go and dig holes and live underground, and then they don’t even have anybody on the Counsel. And if the ones who live above ground are called the
upper
tribes, does that mean that the ones who live below are called the
lower
tribes?’

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