Helix and the Arrival (17 page)

The four of us heave Porgo across the river using the rope. The current makes it difficult, but we work as one until we can haul her up onto the riverbank. Once on the bank, she lies on her side, motionless. Her chest is rising and falling, so there is still life left in her.

‘What now?' asks Ug, but he needn't have spoken.

Appearing from the bushes are at least twelve rivermen. Arrows are loaded in their bows, ready to be fired. They encircle us so that we can't escape.

Although they are a fearsome sight, what I notice most about them are their neckpieces. They hang in front of their bare chests and are threaded with shells, feathers and small colourful stones that look much more interesting than our sacred rocks.

With one smooth movement, Ug reaches for the bloodstained spear strapped across his back. Holding it in both hands, he crouches low and faces the rivermen, ready to defend himself and his friends. Far from intimidating the river people, this only makes them pull even tighter on their arrows, as if they're about to shoot at any second.

Steckman steps in front of Ug and says, ‘Put the spear down, boy.'

‘Tell them to point their arrows away and I will lower my spear,' says Ug.

‘No, I won't!' says Steckman. ‘You're a stranger in their land. How do you expect them to react?'

‘He's right, Ug,' I say. ‘Why don't you put your spear down so we can talk to them?'

Reluctantly, Ug places his spear on the ground and stands back up with his fists clenched. As he does this, a riverman, taller and with a much more heavily decorated neckpiece than the others', steps forward.

‘A wise choice,' he says to Ug.

At the sound of his voice, the rivermen lower their weapons.

‘Steevor. Your greatness,' says Steckman, descending to one knee.

Steevor, who must be their leader, looks down at Steckman. ‘Steckman, stand. I have never given you permission to bring mountain folk to our land.' Like the other rivermen, he is lean and muscular, with dark brown skin. His hair is black and his eyes are deep blue like the river. He speaks softly, but there's force in his words.

‘Yes, I'm s-s-sorry,' says Steckman. ‘We … They have come to ask for your help.'

‘Then perhaps they should speak,' says Steevor.

Steckman is silent. He looks at us and we look at each other. I'm the first to talk. ‘Your greatness,' I begin. ‘On behalf of my friends, I apologise for coming uninvited to your lands, but we come with good reason. My friend's father,' I say, gesturing to Ug, ‘is very ill. He will die without proper medicine, medicine that only the people of the river can provide.'

‘You come for our medicine?' asks Steevor, with a smile.

‘Yes. Our medicine man does not have the knowledge to help. You are our only hope.'

Steevor takes a moment to think it over and nods his head as if he has made up his mind. He talks quickly now. ‘So you have come to our land without permission, and you expect us to gift you our precious medicine. For generations, your people have treated us with nothing except hatred. But now, in a time of need, the mountain sends three of its young folk to ask for help. Are there no adults left on the mountain?'

The other river folk smile at Steevor's remark. I can see Steevor's point – it must seem strange having three young people make such a request of him.

‘And what is this?' he says, looking towards Porgo.

‘Ah … yes … well …' begins Steckman. ‘I was intending to sell her as a pet to your people, but …' He gestures towards her wounds. ‘As you can see, she's been injured. I was hoping someone could have a look at her …'

‘We already have tame lowland dogs for pets, Steckman, you know that. Why would we want a swamp boar?'

‘Um … Well … she's very bright …'

Steevor waves a hand and casts his attention back to the three of us. His face tenses and the seriousness returns. He turns to one of the men standing with him.

‘Take them to an empty roundhouse and place guards at the entrance. I will decide their punishment later. Steckman, you will come with me.'

I'm grabbed on either arm by a riverman, as is Saleeka. Ug is, too, but he throws aside the first two rivermen that try to restrain him, which only leads to him being besieged by six others. They pin him to the ground but he keeps on struggling, throwing off two who are pinning him by a shoulder and kicking away another who is pinning him by a leg.

‘Place an arrow in him,' says Steevor calmly. ‘He is threatening our people.'

‘Please,' says Steckman. ‘He's just a boy.'

One of the rivermen puts an arrow in his bow and draws it back purposefully. He's trying to get a clear shot into Ug's leg from close range but Ug and the rivermen he's grappling with are a jumble of arms and legs, making it impossible for the marksman to aim with confidence.

‘Leave him alone,' screams Saleeka, who is being held tight. ‘He only wants to help his father.'

‘Steevor … your greatness,' I say. ‘Please! Our people were once friends with your people. Crev, Vedgar, my great-grandfather Herb …'

But it's too late. The riverman has found his target
– there's a clear path to Ug's body. I hear the dull twang of the bow. Then there is silence. Even from the river.

I look to Ug's body, expecting to see the arrow buried in his midriff, but it isn't there. And then I notice Steevor: his arm is outstretched and the arrow is in his grip, still shuddering.

Steevor turns to face me with the arrow still in his closed hand. ‘If your friend stops struggling, I will spare him his life.'

I get down on my hands and knees beside Ug, who is still trying to free himself. ‘Stop it, Ug! Do you hear me? Stop!'

His face is red, there's blood trickling out of his nose and spit is foaming from his mouth. ‘My father … My father,' he breathes, his mouth pushed against the ground.

‘Ug, you have to stop or they will shoot you,' I say.

Finally Ug stops struggling. His only movement now comes from his heaving chest.

‘Stand,' says Steevor to me.

I get to my feet and look into Steevor's clear eyes.

‘You mentioned Crev, Vedgar and another name,' says Steevor.

‘Herb. My great-grandfather Herb,' I say.

Steevor nods. He turns to the man who almost sent an arrow into Ug. ‘Take them to a guest roundhouse and see that they are fed and given water. Bring them to me when you are done.'

‘What about Porgo?' I say, wanting to know she will be taken proper care of.

‘Who?' says Steevor.

I point to Porgo, who is still on the ground.

Steevor catches the attention of one of his men. ‘See to the swamp boar. Take it to Borvet. If anyone can save it, he can.'

With Steevor's change of heart, we are saved for the time being. But what made him change his mind? For now it doesn't matter. The main thing is that all of us, including Porgo, are safe and that there is still a chance we can save Ugthorn.

The three of us are taken to a roundhouse. The walls are thick and the roof is thatched and watertight. Inside, in the middle, is a fire. Its smoke disappears into the roof above and out into the lowland sky.

We are brought food in brownish-red bowls made of something that is solid but lighter than stone. The lips of the bowls are thin and the material doesn't appear to have been carved but instead fashioned in some other way.

The food is like nothing we have ever seen before. On the mountain, food comes in pieces, sometimes threaded on a stick and cooked until it is black (at least in my family) over hot coals. But the food that is before us here is a mixture of liquid, what I assume to be grains, some greenery and pieces of meat.

Ug pushes his bowl away and Saleeka sniffs hers from a great height, as if there may be a small animal holding its breath beneath the liquid, waiting to spring out and attach itself to her face. I can tell they're thinking about what Speel has told us about lowland food.

I decide to trust what's been put in front of me – it can't be any worse than Mum's cooking! I bring the bowl up to my mouth and take a small sip of the warm liquid.

I shudder. These are flavours I've never tasted before. My mouth is dancing to different tunes – but it's a happy dance. I bring the bowl up to my face again and, this time, take a proper slurp.

‘It's good,' I say.

Ug and Saleeka are hungry, but still suspicious of what they don't know. Saleeka brings the bowl to her mouth. She raises it with jerky movements and takes a small sip of the liquid. Her face shows her confusion. ‘What is this?' I can hear her thinking. ‘Where does it come from?'

By the time Ug decides to taste what's in his bowl, I've finished what's in mine, scooping out the last of the grains and greenery with my fingers and wondering whether it would be rude to ask for more.

‘This is really good,' says Saleeka, as she scrapes the last of the grains into her mouth. ‘How do they make it taste like this?'

After his initial taste, Ug buries his face in the bowl. He finishes his food with a giant slurp and a satisfying burp. We each feel full and content.

‘So what is this about your great-grandfather?' says Ug.

As I open my mouth to begin to explain everything, a riverman pokes his head through the entrance. ‘Steevor will see you now,' he says. ‘Follow me.'

We leave the roundhouse and walk through the village. Everything about the place interests me. Folk are busy and all seem to have a purpose, whether it be making food, tending their fields or looking after their working beasts.

We notice lowland dogs, about seven of them, curled together, sleeping in front of a roundhouse. They are thin but have very muscly legs, and I imagine they would be excellent at retrieving game. As we walk past, a man appears at the entrance to the roundhouse.

‘Oi! You lot! Does this pile of boar flesh in here belong to you?'

I look towards the riverman who is guiding us. He nods at me, giving us permission to make the short detour.

We walk towards the man's roundhouse and step around the sleeping dogs. One of them raises an eyebrow and then goes back to sleep. They must be quite tame.

‘Borvet is my name,' the man says. ‘I'm the beast keeper. Come on inside.'

‘Thanks,' I say, as we enter his roundhouse. ‘I'm Helix and this is Saleeka and Ug.' I see a round lump on the floor in front of a fire. It's covered by a blanket and is snoring loudly. ‘Is that Porgo?' I say.

‘Yes, that's the swamp boar. I've cleaned her wounds and stitched them closed. She lost a lot of blood so will need to rest. But she ate a large bowl of oats –
my
oats – without being asked, so she looks to be on the mend.'

‘Thank you for helping her, Borvet,' I say.

‘Pleased to be of service,' he says, with a wink.

‘Beast keeper?' says Saleeka, as if she's been pondering something. ‘Does that mean you …'

Borvet helps her out. ‘I look after the animals that work for us – the hunting dogs you passed outside and the beasts that toil in the fields.'

Saleeka is still looking confused. Ug doesn't quite get it either.

I try to explain their confusion to Borvet. ‘It's just that we don't have a beast
keeper
where we come from. Lots of beast
eaters
,' I say, with a laugh (I don't think he finds this funny), ‘but no one whose job it is to look after animals.'

‘Interesting,' says Borvet.

‘We'd better get going,' I say, not wanting to wake Porgo.

Borvet sees us off with a happy salute.

We continue our walk through the village. A group of girls approaches us. There's one in the middle, who the others are whispering to. As we get closer, I recognise her. She's the one who shot arrows at me – and deliberately missed.

As we near the group, all the girls laugh except for the arrow shooter, who lowers her eyelids and looks down at the ground. But just as I pass her she looks up and,
I'm pretty sure, smiles at me. It's not a big smile, just a faint bend-of-the-mouth type of smile. The kind of smile that says, ‘Although you look like someone's been stealing your dinner for the past twelve years, there's something about you that I like.'

I smile back, but it's more your goofy big-mouthed-toothy-grin smile, the smile of a gushing cave idiot. I wish I could take it back, but it's too late. She's gone.

Our riverman guide shows us into what must be Steevor's roundhouse. Steevor is sitting with his back to us, whispering to an old man seated at the back, whose face is mostly covered by a hood. Steckman is sitting opposite them, on the other side of the fire.

Steevor's roundhouse is not that much bigger than the others, but inside, its walls are heavily decorated. Some objects are hung, while others sit on shelves built into the mud walls. I notice some crude bone carvings that look a little out of place and remember back to the writings on Herb's tablet. Could these carvings be Herb, Crev and Vedgar's offerings to the river people?

After a moment, Steevor turns away from the old man and looks towards us. ‘Sit,' he says, gesturing to the skins in front of his fire.

We sit. Steckman is on one side of me, while Ug and Saleeka are on the other. The skins are soft and thick. Unlike the guest skins in Korg and Speel's cave, these ones appear to be new and clean. In fact, the guest skins seem to be of a much higher quality than the ones Steevor sits on.

Steevor looks at the three of us. ‘Welcome to Fenswell, land of the river,' he says.

Fenswell … So the lowlands have a name.

Steevor's eyes now focus in on me. ‘Helix, great-grandson of Herb, welcome.'

‘Thank you,' I say. But why does Steevor feel he needs to mention my great-grandfather Herb?

‘Ug, whose father is unwell and who likes a physical battle, welcome.'

Ug nods, keeping his eyes lowered. I think he's a bit ashamed of the way he acted earlier.

‘And Saleeka – I can sense your strong will and loyalty to your friends. Welcome.'

‘Thank you, Steevor, your greatness,' says Saleeka. I think she's blushing.

‘First of all, you are lucky – lucky to be alive. There is no excuse for entering our lands uninvited, and Steckman should have known better.'

Steckman's head is bowed.

Steevor turns his attention back to me. ‘What do you know of your great-grandfather, Helix?'

His question is direct and I feel as if my answer will be important to him. ‘Not that much really,' I say. ‘He died before I was born. All I know is that he told stories about the river and its people, but that no one in Rockfall believed him. And I also know …' I pause, thinking of the tablet that I read in the cave on the Dark Side.

‘What else, Helix?' says Steevor.

‘There was this tablet that talked about him, Crev, who is now Korg, and Vedgar and how they went on
these adventures as far as Land's End … Except they found out that there was no Land's End, which is kind of the point of the story, I guess.'

Ug has turned my way. He has a look of shock on his face, a look that says, ‘I cannot believe you have not told me about any of this!'

‘Is this the tablet?' says Steevor. He holds up a stone that is the same shape and size as the one I found in the Dark Side.

‘Where –'

Steckman interrupts me. ‘If I may, Steevor. I removed the tablet from the cave before you woke, Helix. I knew it was not mine, but I also knew that what was contained on it was too … er … shall we say
sensitive
to be shown to certain folk in Rockfall.'

‘You were carrying the tablet in that heavy sack you had on your back,' I say.

‘Yes, Helix. It's been with me since I left the Dark Side.'

I turn back to Steevor. ‘Do you know of Herb?'

‘Herb? Yes, I know him.' Steevor turns towards the old man who has been sitting at the back all this time.

The old man looks up for the first time and removes the hood that had been covering most of his face. There is something about him that is different – different from the river folk, that is. He doesn't wear a neckpiece, has a long beard and light skin. Looking at him more closely now, I see that his nose is bigger and his eyes are brown, instead of the deep blue of the river people's eyes.

‘Great-grandfather Herb?' I say. ‘Is that you?'

‘Yes, it is I,' he says, with a broken voice.

‘It can't be. You're meant to be …'

‘Dead. Yes. Well, I'm not quite there yet,' he says.

This can't be happening. ‘But how … Why … When …'

Steevor raises a hand. ‘Your questions will be answered, Helix,' he says to me. Then to Ug: ‘Steckman has explained your father's injuries to me. A poultice will need to be applied to his wound, though we fear that it may have been left too long for the medicine to work.'

‘Do you have the medicine now?' says Ug.

‘I am sorry, Ug. It will be prepared overnight. The ingredients are being gathered from the farlands as we speak.'

I'm still staring at Herb, who is looking down again. It's Herb, my great-grandfather, my own flesh and blood. It's a perfect feeling, as if my insides are being tickled with meaning and wonder.