Ashes Under Uricon (The Change Book 1) (19 page)

I looked at her. “No. I was frightened at first. I started to cry and he only came near me when my eyes were blurred with tears. When I’d cleared them he had gone. But the bag of food was there. I’m sure it wasn’t there before.”

“Then you did not see his face?”

“I just told you. No. What difference does it make? He left us this food. And we needed it.”

“The second arrow.” She was now behaving most oddly, walking to the door and back as she was speaking. “Did you see it?”

“I certainly heard it. And felt it. I was hiding behind a tree. When the arrow struck the whole trunk reverberated.”

“You did not see it?”

“No, I don’t think I did. Why are you so agitated, Eluned? Sit down. You’re frightening me.”

She sat gingerly on the edge of the couch, rubbing her hands together. In a whisper, she spoke. “You did not see his face. You did not see the arrow.” Then louder. “The first arrow. Describe it.” As if remembering who she was speaking to, she added, after a moment, “My lady.”

Why was she so agitated? Did she know something about this mysterious man in the trees? “You saw it yourself. You know what it looked like.”

“I did not see it. You closed the door. Brought me in here. You must tell me what it looked like.”

“Why must I? It was an arrow. What else is there to say?”

Her agitation grew worse. She flung her arms about. “The point. The blade. The head. The tip of the arrow. Was it metal or flint?”

I had no idea what she meant by ‘flint’. “I don’t think it was metal. I didn’t really take a close look at it. I’d say it was made of some kind of carved stone.”

“Flint.” She spat the word. “It is him.”

“Who? What are you talking about? Do you know this man?”

“He killed my mother. With an arrow tipped with a flint head.”

“Who is he? Is he from your world?”

She looked up, straight at me. Her eyes were piercing. I had never seen her like this before.

“His name cannot be spoken,” she said.

I slept badly that night. We had eaten nothing but thin vegetable soup for several days. For the last two days we had nothing. Suddenly my stomach was filled with food. Understandably, it reacted. Badly. About an hour after I stopped eating I felt nauseous. I rushed outside and vomited most of it up. All I kept thinking as I retched was ‘What a waste’. I returned to the room and finished my bottle in a futile attempt to clear my mouth.

Darkness soon fell. It was impossible to see my hand in front of my face. Eluned had curled up on the couch earlier, though whether she slept or not I couldn’t tell. Eventually I was able to settle a little. I leaned back on the couch and drifted into a sleep that was broken by dreams of arrows piercing my stomach, spilling its contents in neat cloth-bound packages. I woke very early the next morning, as daylight pierced the gloom. There was no sign of Eluned.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes. The packets of food had been wrapped up again and returned to the bag. The empty bottles stood beside it. “Eluned,” I called. I doubted that she would reply. “Eluned,” I called again. This time I knew she would not reply. I needed a drink. My mouth was dry and tasted awful. Half thinking I could somehow fill it, I picked up one of the bottles and headed for the front door.

I found Eluned stood outside the house, one arm folded across her chest, the other hanging at her side, her shoulders shaking from the cold. She was staring out into the trees. “What are you doing?” I said.

She turned to look at me. “Waiting.”

“How long have you been here? You look frozen.”

“That does not matter. I will wait here until he comes.”

“Why? You could wait inside. What are you going to do when he does come?”

She lifted the arm that hung at her side and an arrow appeared from within her shift. “He will feel this,” she said.

“Where did that come from?” I was astonished. Her behaviour was becoming more and more strange.

“It killed my mother. It was hidden with the books. In there. Awaiting the time when he would return.”

The arrow she was holding out was exactly the same as the one I had taken out of the door. With one simple movement, it slid back inside the arm of her shift. She turned away from me.

“Eluned. You can’t do this. Why? Revenge for your mother’s death?”

She ignored me. Then I heard that low whistle again. I knew what it meant. “Look out!” I screamed, grabbing her shoulder. As she half-turned towards me I heard a dull thud. She groaned and slumped to the ground. An arrow had pierced her arm and was now embedded in it. Blood began to discolour the sleeve of her shift.

A figure emerged from the trees and walked towards us. I stood frozen to the spot, paralysed with fear and shock. “Foolish woman,” he said. “Did she think she could harm me?”

“You’ve killed her,” I shouted.

“Nonsense,” he said. “I aimed for her arm. I struck her arm. She will live.” He slipped his bow over his shoulder, placed one foot on Eluned’s shoulder and pulled the arrow out. Fortunately, she was still unconscious.

“Bind it,” he said.

I looked at him, too stunned to speak or move.

“Bind it, woman,” he said again. He reached into a bag strapped to his back and pulled out a piece of cloth. “Here. Use this.”

I still did not move.

“What’s the matter with you, woman? It’s a simple flesh wound. But if you don’t bind it she will bleed to death. Is that what you want?”

I shook my head. Taking the piece of cloth I knelt down beside Eluned. I pulled up her sleeve, now dark red with blood. There was a ragged gash in the upper part of her arm. I wrapped the cloth around it as tightly as I could.

“Too tight,” he said. “Loosen it.”

I did as he said. As I was finishing, Eluned started to come around. As she did so, the man spotted the arrow now only half-hidden in her sleeve.

“As I thought,” he said, picking it up. He looked at it carefully. “One of mine, I believe. Must have been young when I made this one. It’s crudely done.”

I found my voice. “You shot her. She wasn’t going to harm you.”

“So why carry this?” He waved the arrow. “Hidden in her sleeve?”

“She doesn’t have a bow. What could she do with it?”

“I know what a foolish woman is capable of. Her mother was the same.” He lifted one side of the leather jacket he was wearing, revealing a deep scar near his navel. “She did this.”

“So you killed her. As you intended to kill her daughter.”

“I have never killed any person deliberately. Her mother struck me and left me for dead. When I recovered I came here intending to wound her. Only wound her. She moved. The arrow struck badly. I could not help her.”

“Why should I believe you?” I said. Eluned was struggling to sit up. Her face was now very pale. “I think you need to go inside.” With my arm around her back she managed to just about stand. She spoke for the first time since she was shot.

“I will have my revenge. This time I have failed. Not again. Not again.”

The man laughed out loud, turned and strode off into the trees. Just as he was about to disappear, he turned and said, “I have filled your bottles. Make sure she drinks.”

I settled Eluned on the couch. True to his word, the bottles now stood on the table, filled once more with the delicious liquid. I managed to force a few drops into her mouth, although she struggled against it. I checked the bandage on her arm. The bleeding had stopped. The cloth the man had given me was no longer darkening with blood as it had when I first wrapped it around her arm. Before long, cold, exhausted and deeply frustrated, Eluned fell asleep again. This time I planned to stay near her.

I left the back room and went into the library. Forgetting my worries over what Taid might think, I pulled a pile of thick books from a bottom shelf and placed them in front of the stand. When I stepped up on them I was level with the open book. I picked it up and shook it. Once again, dust rose into the air in a choking cloud. Once it had settled I was able to read the words on the cover. ‘Y Gododdin’.

I had a vague recollection that this was one of the books that Taid had mentioned in the dim and distant past. Although I had learned a considerable number of words in Welsh during my time in Plas Maen Heledd, the second word meant nothing to me. The single letter ‘Y’ was the same as ‘The’ in English, but the other word was meaningless. I opened the book, turning the pages idly. I had nearly reached the end when I heard a noise in the hallway. Jumping down from the pile of books I turned to look for the source of this noise, assuming it would be Eluned up on her feet again. I was wrong.

Embedded in the carpet that covered most of the floor of the hallway from the door to the stairs was an arrow. It was one of
his
arrows. I stepped out into the hallway. The front door was wide open, even though I was sure that I had closed it when we came in. Outside, framed in the doorway, stood the leather-coated man with his hands on his hips.

For the first time I was able to make out his features. His dark brown leather coat covered him from his neck to his thighs, held together with a series of heavy rope loops over toggles. He wore dark trousers made of some heavy cloth over heavy black ankle boots. A belt around his waist carried a sheath of arrows on one side and a stone axe or hammer on the other. As before, he carried a bow slung across his shoulders. His face was half-hidden by a huge beard. His head was covered by a black hood that appeared to be part of a tunic or shirt he was wearing under the coat.

“You read?” he said in his deep, resonant voice. Taken by surprise by his presence, I wasn’t sure that I had heard him. He repeated his words, more clearly. “You read?”

I nodded.

“There’s work to be done, woman. Books are for fools.”

I turned, stepped back inside and started to close the door.

“Wait,” he said. I paused, looking directly at him. “You are no fool.”

I closed the door.

“Stop,” he said. I stood inside the door. He spoke again, but this time his voice came as a chant. High and lilting.

“
Gwyr a aeth gatraeth oedd fraeth eu llu,

Glasfed eu hancwyn a gwenwyn fu.

Trychant trwy beiriant en cattau
Ag wedi elwch tawelwch fu.”

I opened the door. He was standing with his head thrown back and his arms held up. As he paused in his chanting he lowered his head. “I have no need of books.”

I shrugged. He lowered his arms to his side. “Without books we are nothing,” I said.

Would I have said such a thing in my previous life? I doubt it. We had only one book. It hardly made up our world. In fact for most of us it was the single thing we wished we did not have. Day after day, plodding endlessly through verse after verse, page after page, chapter after never-ending chapter, each word a struggle to understand. All this did not make us into ‘readers’, willing or otherwise. My years at the Plas had changed me. Perhaps more than I had been really aware. The Professors had shown me the wonders to be found in books, even though the range had been deliberately narrow.

I leaned against the door. “You must have learned those words from a book.”

“No book has soiled these hands,” he said. “I was taught by the masters. Word by word.”

“I have been taught by masters, too,” I said. I was now determined to defend myself.

He laughed. “Your masters are fools. Tell me one thing you have learned from their books.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came. “Many things,” I finally said.

“You have nothing. I have the words of my fathers and their fathers before them. They tell of our past.”

“Why is the past so important?”

“Without it there is no now. Without it there will be no future.”

“In my world there is no past. Before The Change was Chaos.” Those words – I had not thought of them for many years. I shook my head. “No. I don’t mean that. Not any more.”

“I am the Teacher, Non. You will come with me and learn of your past. You will learn the ways of your ancestors. You will learn their words. And their deeds. You are going to need them.”

“How do you know my name?” I said, shocked.

“You are the one who was expected. The future lies with you. But first you must learn how to survive.”

There it was again. ‘The one who was expected.’ The same thing that I had been told in Plas Maen Heledd by the Professors. The thing that Mererid could not accept. That led to the Guards capturing Taid and the Professors and burning down the house. If I was to be the ‘future’ I did not seem to have made much of it so far.

“Come,” the Teacher said. “We must hurry.”

“I can’t leave Eluned. You wounded her. She is sleeping. And very weak.”

“It is not for you to decide. You must leave her. The wound is not serious. It will keep her here for some time. This is necessary. When you are ready she will join us. Now, come.”

He turned and quickly headed back into the trees. It seemed I had little choice but to follow him.

But before I left I would say goodbye to Eluned. I could not leave without doing that. I ran back inside the house. She was lying still on the couch, as I had left her, dead to the world. I could not disturb her, despite my wish to do so. I touched her forehead and left.

As I reached the room that passed for a library I was struck by a need to take something with me from this place. I could see the open book on the stand. Clambering up, I grabbed it, and then finally left. “See you soon,” I called to Eluned although she could not have heard me. “I do hope so,” I muttered to myself.

I did not turn back this time. This place had no real meaning for me. We had only been here a matter of hours, hardly long enough to build a relationship, especially with an inanimate object such as a house. I had no idea where I was going this time. Or why, really. I was following the orders of a man who had attacked us. Yet he knew my name and what his world expected of me. This would be the third time I had been uprooted, taken away from a place or a person who I had thought I needed. Before I lost them. My mother. My sister. Taid. Now, Eluned. Yet I had survived without them. I supposed I would do so again.