Becoming (16 page)

13

Warm strands of sunbeams stroked Gaia’s cheek as she stirred. It had been a troubled night and Gaia still felt sick and weak. The feeling and movement had returned and her head was no longer throbbing. The misty haze that had clouded her thoughts had lifted. Freya sat cross legged on the ground, wrapped in a blanket, still awake, surveying around them. Freya paid close attention to the brow of the hill, and the woods. Aran and Yann were still sleeping. Both had colour in their cheeks, but Aran seemed troubled. His head would arch and twist as he let out tiny whimpers. Yann looked calm, his breathing the only indication he was still alive. Freya noticed Gaia was awake.

‘How are you feeling this morning?’

‘Still groggy, but much better than yesterday. I didn’t get a chance to say thank you properly last night for what you did.’

‘Don’t worry it was nothing. You would have done the same.’

Gaia felt a twinge of guilt in amongst her gratitude. Would she have done the same? Aran and Yann, yes, but would she have saved Freya, and saved her first? After all those thoughts Gaia had about Freya, all the anger, bitterness and revenge Gaia’s enemy had turned into her saviour. Maybe Gaia was wrong? Freya had proven her loyalty and courage. There could be no question of Freya’s commitment to the group. After a long silence Gaia spoke.

‘I always thought you were Kali’s runner, her spy. I was wrong. I’m sorry.’

Freya smiled, an awkward smile, not wanting to answer, but feeling as though she should.

‘You don’t have to apologise. I don’t blame you. We can’t be sure of anything now. You just have to do what you need to survive. We need to get the others sorted, make some breakfast and make a move. Do you want to see what it feels like when you stand?’

Freya helped Gaia to her feet, walking a few steps arm in arm, Freya taking the weight. Freya stepped away and allowed Gaia to move on her own. Gaia could feel the weakness in her legs, but there was movement, and with each step the numbness from the poison eased and strength returned. The group needed to keep pressing on. The hills were a day or so away, and with luck they could avoid the hunters. Freya was exhausted, the others weakened, but everyone needed to regain strength and sharpness if they were to stand any chance against the hunters.

Freya woke Aran and Yann who ate a light breakfast. The boys struggled to their feet, moving around to shake the last of the poison from their stiff legs. Once packed the group set off, heading along the edge of the woods, following the treeline, wary of entering too far into the thick trees. They were still smarting from the encounter with the spiders, but there was little talk of it on the journey that morning. Each was trying to deal with it, all were thankful and relieved. Jack had been right.
Fear the woods.
The group had been complacent, too confident in their own strength and abilities, flushed with the arrogance of youth and inexperience. The young led a sheltered life on the island. There was the growing menace of the rats, but the protection of the community and the waters around the island meant the rodents were the only real external threat. Most of the danger on the island came from within.

The mainland was the group’s first taste of freedom, but now they faced many more threats, most unknown. The mainland was vast and open in comparison, the terrain, animals and people were different. The beautiful, barren landscape meant the threats were spread more thinly, the likelihood and frequency less. Even the beauty was a threat. It lured the young into a false sense of comfort and safety. The gentle, rolling hills, and glorious meadows, the lush green quilts of grass and lines of trees had stood for decades, some centuries. The landscape had evolved, the changes subtle, seasonal, across oceans of time. The blanket of green enveloped in the arch of bright blue skies, the brilliance of the sun, and the pure, protective light of the moon.

In beauty there was darkness and terror, and in nature such sublime horror. The world gave birth to this terrible beauty, nurtured it, watched it flourish. Nature was to be admired in all its wonder, but it was also to be feared. The group could not conquer or master their surroundings. Humanity had tried that, and failed, in the days before the poison. Gaia and the others had grown in the confidence of their escape, but also grown in arrogance and folly. The group thought they knew the world, the dangers, but were wrong. Nature had reminded them.

Beneath the naked tranquility and charm of the wilderness there lay a darkness. There were the places the light had been smothered, where the beauty had not touched. There was death and destruction. The creatures waited and would kill without thought or feeling. They killed without remorse. For the creatures it was instinct, the purest instinct, the foundation on which feeling and thought were built, survival. It was all about survival, as without it there was no love or freedom. Without survival there was nothing.

As early evening approached the group reached a bend in the line of trees. The river still lay within the dark core of the woods, with the occasional sound to remind them. A falcon hovered in the sky above, staring down at its prey. The majestic bird dropped like an arrow, plunging towards its unsuspecting victim. The falcon disappeared in the long grass for a moment, and emerged prey locked and wriggling in its talons. The bird flew off into the distance, fading into a tiny dot and vanishing from view.

The trees spread out from the base of the valley and stretched up the hill. The group snaked around a bend and saw the battered ruins of a castle in a field the other side of the river. The stone walls stood astride a mound of earth that capped a hill. The mound was smooth and even, and the walls once a majestic golden stone were now stained with centuries of weather. In each corner was a turret in varying states of decay, the stonework had thin slats spread along the wall. The entrance was now a gaping hole where the gate and portcullis once stood. Gaia soaked up the view so typical of this part of the world. The rugged, untamed beauty of nature alongside relics of man’s fallen past. While the group stood in awe, Yann broke the silence.

‘That’s some building. Are we heading up there?’

Everyone looked to Aran, still seeing him as leader, but Gaia was worried about him. Aran had struggled all day. They had all been tired, but Freya had given everyone some herbal potions, mixed with plants she was gathering on their way. Freya was demonstrating her knowledge and training with a typical absence of fuss. The homemade medicines were working on Gaia and Yann. He had floated through the day as if the spiders had never happened. For Gaia, the aches had dissolved and her body returned to some normality. Though Gaia’s strength was returning, she needed frequent rest. They all did. Sleep was an imperative now, and the shelter of the castle was inviting.

Aran had wilted since the spiders. His grit and determination, the resolve he had shown in the early hours of the escape had been sucked from him. Aran’s shoulders hung in silent despair. He had said nothing all day, on a couple of occasions stopping and moving out of sight to vomit. All benefit from the food and tonics were being purged from Aran’s weakened body at the time he needed them most. Freya had taken his place at the front and now led the group. Everyone waited for the others to respond to Yann’s question. They all wanted to go to the castle, but it was Gaia who took the initiative and responded.

‘I think we should. We need to rest tonight, and the castle looks a good place to shelter.’

Yann continued to look at Aran for a response, but Aran’s head remained bowed in silence. Gaia stared at Freya, and waited. Freya shook herself from her exhausted daze and spoke.

‘I agree with Gaia. We need to sleep. I’m shattered. The only problem I can see is the castle is on the other side of the river. We might not be able to get across. We’ll also have to go through the woods to get over. We all know that isn’t a good idea.’

Gaia pointed in the direction they had come.

‘I spotted an area back there. We passed it a few minutes ago. The trees thinned out. I couldn’t see the river, but we’re quite a way up the valley now. I don’t think it’ll be that wide this far up.’

Gaia had edged closer to Freya and was speaking in a low voice, dropping it to a whisper.

‘I’m worried about Aran. Look at him. He needs sleep, desperately.’

Yann was with Aran behind Gaia and Freya. Yann had lain on the grass. Aran had sunk to the floor, one knee on the ground, gasping for air. Aran gave a gagging sound and threw up on the grass. Freya looked at Gaia and frowned. Freya addressed the group, her voice more commanding.

‘We’ll head up to the castle, eat and rest there for the night. We all need to sleep.’

Yann sat up and nodded. Aran wiped his mouth, struggling to his feet. Yann jumped up, helping Aran stand, taking his weight. Yann frowned.

‘That sounds good to me. I’m starving. Have we anything better than those biscuits we’ve been eating all day?’

Aran and Yann shuffled towards the girls. Aran’s face was ashen, and as he spoke his voice was throaty and cracked.

‘We can’t stop. We need to keep moving. We’ve lost too much time. They’ll be on us soon.’

Gaia grabbed Aran by the arm and looked in his eyes. They were dull, lifeless without any sparkle. His breathing was laboured.

‘Listen Aran. You’re weak and need to rest. If they were following us they’d have caught us by now. You were right. They’ve probably gone straight to the hills or taken the southern river. They’ve got to be ahead of us now. They’ll be waiting somewhere up ahead. If they are we’re going to need all our wits to avoid them, or strength to take them on. Tonight we rest, no arguments.’

Aran frowned, a look of resignation in his face. Gaia was right. He was exhausted and desperate for food. There was a burning ache in his stomach, mixed with the spasms of sickness. If they group did not do something now Aran could spiral into something deeper and much worse, illness which might cripple him for days. Aran sensed he might be on the verge of a fever. Freya was skilled, trained in basic medical care and could help him. Freya knew what was needed, but he had to work with, not fight her. Gaia simply cared. Aran could see the concern in her face, he had no choice but to trust the others.

‘You’re right. We’re going to need all our strength. OK, let’s head for the castle.’

The group doubled back a short distance until they reached an area where the trees thinned, and there was mostly undergrowth and bushes. They moved down the hill towards the river. As they neared, the refreshing sound of the water’s gentle flow could be heard. The soothing trickle gave the group a momentary lift, and they were buoyed further seeing it was shallow and easy to cross. Further up the river a long legged bird stood in the water near the bank. Standing proud and majestic with a narrow pointed bill, feathers a mix of grey and with flecks of black. The bird searched the water looking for food, waiting to pounce. Gaia was trying to recall the name of the bird, but as if Yann had read her mind he spoke.

‘It’s a heron.’

Yann had surprised them all with his knowledge of local wildlife. Often he would spurt out the name of a bird that flew past, or a creature that shot across their path. These were the only words Yann would utter for hours at a time as he sailed along without a care. The heron stood silent and alert, oblivious to the group’s fleeting presence.

They moved up the hill on the other side and soon approached the castle. It was larger and more imposing than Gaia had first thought. The distance had fooled her. The walls were high, thick and solid in places, crumbling with neglect and decay in others. The castle was surrounded by a deep moat long since dried up, and a ridge of inclining earth led to the entrance. The sun was setting below the western horizon. From their high vantage point Gaia could see the blazing fiery ball as it plunged into the hills that lay beyond. It would be dark soon, and the group would need to move to find a place within the castle. Somewhere safe where they could huddle together and keep warm. The clear skies promised another freezing night.

As they moved Gaia could see small, darting flashes zipping past. At first she heard the swishing noise as the shadows hurtled close. Gaia noticed the tiny black creatures in the air. They looked like birds, but she realised they were bats. Gaia saw the images of the night birds in her mind. They had not appeared for days, not since the escape from the island. Perhaps they only lived on the island? Nothing would surprise Gaia. Nature had been thrown into turmoil and chaos reigned.

The group entered the open central part of the castle, a large grassy area littered with the remains of walls. The rubble was a sad reminder of the pomp and majesty that once would have graced the building. The castle was centuries old, with no purpose or use for many years. Gaia spotted a sign to the right, and moved to read it. The sign was faded and covered in a mixture of moss, muck and rust. Gaia could just make out two of the words
.

‘It says Norham Castle. Anyone heard of it?’

The others all shook their heads. Yann had climbed over one of the crumbling areas of wall and was on his knees peering down at something.

‘Look here.’

They all moved to where Yann was kneeling. There was a circular hole covered in a criss cross of iron bars. Yann was leaning on the bars and staring into the depths below. Yann hollered into the hole, his voice echoing in the cavernous depths.

‘What do you reckon this is? A well? Some underground storage?’