The Tower of Il Serrohe (19 page)

BOOK: The Tower of Il Serrohe
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“‘
Again, I wasn’t making a special effort to look that way, but I could hear bits of the chanting and see men working on the tower from the corner of my eye as I left the village. I suppose they were laying the adobes and plastering with mud by the nature of the activity. I’ve watched my father and uncles build rooms onto our house, and this seemed to be similar.’


Pita thought aloud, ‘We wonder why the priests couldn’t bless the adobes as the men worked. We don’t think they are making adobes down in a little cramped “kiva,” as you call it. If only we could know what was going on in there. I’m sure most Soreyes don’t know and maybe even the men carrying bricks back and forth have no clear understanding.’

“‘
I agree. The priests of my world are mysterious about things they do and what the meaning is. Most people don’t know the details of the mass since it’s always sung in Latin.’

“‘
All we can do is watch to see how it makes any difference in what happens once the tower is finished.’

With that Pia and Pita seemed satisfied to leave the matter.


Teresa couldn’t let go of it so easily. She still felt responsible for making things worse and whatever the Soreyes might do to disturb the peace of the Valle. She felt the relentless pull to return to her own valley, but she knew she must stay at least one more day.


That night, she couldn’t sleep because of the heat and thoughts that tumbled like a whitewater stream. Outside, she decided to walk over to the steeple point where she could observe activity at the tower about three miles away.


The moon was waning, but displayed most of its full size. The tower was in a dark area. Occasionally she saw the flicker of an orange point of light, probably the movement of a torch assisting the young workers as they moved the bricks in and out of the kiva.


The activity must have carried on twenty-four hours a day. If so, the tower would rise sooner than expected.


As Teresa walked back to her sisters’ home, she sensed, rather than heard, a high-pitched squeal echoing among the steeples. Looking up, she watched a black delta shape soaring silently though quickly toward the river.


A bat out hunting.


Perhaps they could help despite their detached attitude toward the life of the Valle. What was it about the bats that so unsettled Teresa’s thoughts?”

 

 

thirty six

 

 


The next day, Teresa convinced Pita and Pia to take her into the swampy bosque of Dream River where the bats lived. The sisters weren’t thrilled by the idea.


As they approached the thick bushland of the bosque, the ground immediately took on a springy quality. Soon, they were in mud over their ankles.


Pita spoke in a ‘we-told-you-this-wasn’t-such-a-good-idea’ voice. ‘There are no trails here as the bats live where they are safe from easy access by the people of the Valle. However, they once led us this way to heal several of their young ones suffering from a contagious fever. Most of them died but, luckily, enough survived to make us trusted individuals.’

“‘
Does that mean we will be welcome?’ Teresa asked.

“‘
As welcome as any are to the bats. But we must be careful. They may swoop down on us as we approach.’


Teresa looked around warily.

“‘
Not yet, sister. The way will get much worse before we get close to their caves.’


Caves? Here, in the bosque?”

“‘
It’s a rocky outcrop about the height of eight or nine men and almost as big as Piralltah. Giant cottonwoods arch over the rocky hill so it looks just like any other of the thousands of islands that line the inner bosque before reaching the open river.

“‘
The channels meandering around the islands are belly deep and very slow moving. But the sands are loose and quicksand bogs exist. The bats will lead us safely through once they know who we are.’


They continued to trek deeper into the thickening bush.


Soon they were in an area like a rainforest with towering cottonwoods reaching over a hundred fifty feet above. They slogged through cool knee-deep water, black and thick with dead vegetation. Then, along the banks of the channel, the willow bushes and groves of stinging sand burs curved into the clear Dream River, slowly flowing along.


The crossed the first of many islands on a sand bar visible through the warm, shallow water. Once again they were in the half-light of the dense bosque.


When they heard the
whap, whap, whap
of leather wings accentuated by the occasional crack of breaking branches they looked up. A bat circling a tall spindly cottonwood descended taking a better look at them.


Pita yelled to it. ‘We are Pia and Pita of Piralltah Steeples. We come with our sister on a mission to help fight the Soreyes.’


The bats shared one thing with the people of the Valle and that was a deep dislike of the Soreyes.


The bat landed in front of them, regarding the trio gravely. Then, without a word, it ascended, flying in wide circles as it lead them deeper into the bosque.


Teresa lost count of the many channels they crossed and islands they traversed, but she did note that only three of them had dry sand underfoot. The rest were either boggy at best or knee deep in muck, at worst.


It was well past noon, but no one suggested stopping for a lunch of jerky and dried fruit. By mid-afternoon they had crossed a particularly deep channel and climbed up a
rocky
shore.


This was the lair of the bats, Lookgosee.


Rather than make the women scale the steep incline and enter the black hole entrance to their caves, a contingent of five silvery-furred bats greeted them at a sandy area about ten feet across. To one side and a few steps behind was Nightecho.


The bat in the center, shorter than the others and unsteady on his hind feet, was helped forward by the others. He was the chief among the bats, Nightecho’s father.


He spoke in a raspy voice with the deep overtones reminding Teresa of her great-aunt Louisa, a life-long smoker and alcoholic.

“‘
The healers of Piralltah Steeples are always welcome here at Lookgosee, The Cave of the Bats. But why have you struggled across the thick bosques to see us? We would have come to you at the next rituals of the Dedication of the Young with our own newborns of the past year.’

“‘
We could not wait that long,’ Pita replied. ‘You must know the Soreyes are threatening war on the people of the Valle Abajo.’

“‘
Yes, we have heard the rumblings of war. My son helped a group escape capture on the Il Serrohe mesa.’

“‘
I was among those in that group,’ Teresa said. ‘I am grateful for the help of Nightecho who lead us down the west side of the mesa.’ She looked briefly at Nightecho, standing deferentially behind his father.

“‘
You’re welcome. Anything to foil the evil purposes of the Soreyes.’


Pita turned to Teresa and then faced the old bat. ‘This one is called Teresa of Peralta. A different Peralta from a different place.’


The old bat smiled showing few teeth in what was once a mouthful of sharp ones. ‘Yes, we are familiar with the
other
Peralta—’

“‘
You are?’ Teresa blurted. ‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.’

“‘
Quite all right. Yes, the sisters of Piralltah Steeples are not the only ones able to pass through the Portal. Many of us pass to the Other Valley on a regular basis, depending on the available prey.’

“‘
So there is a connection between the bats of this valley and my own.’


I suppose so. But we have no explanation. Because we associate little with the people of the Valle Abajo, a wide knowledge of the Other Valley is not to our or anyone’s advantage. We keep it to ourselves.’


Pita marveled, ‘Yet you have trusted us enough to reveal this without any thought—’

“‘
We know whom we can trust, young lady. And as long as this knowledge doesn’t go beyond the present company, we can continue to trust the sisters of Piralltah.’


Teresa was fascinated wondering how it was possible for the bats to pass along the path to the Other Valley, but this wasn’t why she had come on this difficult journey. ‘Still, the important thing is how you help us deal with the Soreye threat?’

“‘
I don’t know if that is of great concern to us, but we don’t want to see the people of the Valle suffer. Soreyes have only occasionally shot down bats for sport and soup, so we will help if it doesn’t mean undue contact with others of the Valle.’


Pita spoke smoothly. ‘We can assure the bats that we will not ask that of them. We are here because we are desperate to know more about this tower the Soreyes are building.’


There was excited murmuring among the bats. The old one motioned and they settled down. ‘So now you have helped us understand what they are doing. We saw the building but had no idea it was to be a tower.’


The old bat thought for several moments. ‘It doesn’t make much sense. Why would they want a tower?’

“‘
That’s what we are wondering,’ Teresa explained. None of us are soldiers or know much about military matters. What could they see from a tower that they can’t see already?’

“‘
Nothing really. We fly all over this region. Beyond the height of the Il Serrohe mesa there is nothing to see unless one flies directly overhead. A tower will not provide them with that kind of view, I can assure you.’

“‘
Do you know anything of the history of the Soreyes? How does a tower figure in?’

“‘
We concern ourselves little with histories other than our own. However, there are no stories of towers of Il Serrohe. The only reason I know about tall buildings such as towers is from our wanderings in the Other Valley and stories of multi-level buildings of the villages in the North Country.’


Teresa decided to take full advantage of the friendly attitude of the bats. ‘Could you fly over the tower and tell us what you see and hear?’

“‘
There are young bats who would jump at such a chance. Yes, we will—but only at night. I do not want my young taking arrows in the heart and ending up in Soreye stew.’

“‘
Of course, we understand,’ Pita assured.


Teresa again pondered this connection to her world. If bats could pass through, could anything else?’


The old bat interrupted her thoughts. ‘We do not mean to be rude, but it is near sunset which is our hunting and feeding time. We have places suitable for people such as yourselves to rest for the night, so you can return to Piralltah Steeples tomorrow.


My elders and I will talk over our plans. We can begin observation of the Soreyes tomorrow night, and I will send one of my leaders to Piralltah to report our observations each morning at dawn.’


Pia and Pita bowed cueing Teresa to do the same. ‘Thank you for your hospitality and immeasurable help.’

“‘
Good. We have fresh meat to offer, if you need.’

“‘
We brought our own food, thank you. We wish not to trouble you on our behalf.’


With that, the old bat turned and was helped aloft by the elders on either side of him.


Nightecho lingered to exchange a friendly meeting of the eyes with Teresa. He then smiled and turned to follow the elders. A few minutes later, sleeping pads made of matted fur were brought to the three women.


Teresa spread hers out and collapsed on it. ‘Well, it smells slightly of musk and sweat, but I’m so tired I could sleep in guano!’


As the beating of thousands of leather wings and the light of dusk was blotted out by the swarm of bats streaming westward, the sisters were lulled to sleep. Then the swarm split into groups headed north, south, west, and even east back across the river.


Only Teresa was haunted by dreams of hundreds of Soreye hands roughly pushing her into a vast slave cage.”

 

 

thirty seven

 

 


The bats either shared their normal ‘booty’ from the previous night or made a special effort to provide fresh fruits and vegetables for breakfast. Teresa was so introspective, she seemed moody to Pia and Pita, so they made their apologies and started back for Piralltah Steeples.

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