Текст книги "Quest for the Faradawn"

Автор книги: Richard Ford

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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

‘The Lord of the Mountain Elves met me there and told me where you had gone. He was concerned that you were on your own and worried that Dréagg would try again to capture you.’

‘I can’t remember much of that,’ said Nab, forcing his mind back. ‘I remember getting lost in a thick mist that swept down from the top of the mountain, and I can remember following some kind of light and entering the cave. Then everything seemed to go hazy and blurred until I felt my face all wet when you were licking me. I must have been under some kind of spell which you broke when you found me and I recognized you. I don’t know how the Belt of Ammdar came to be on the floor though.’

He paused and let his mind wander through many thoughts. Then he and Sam got up and started to make their way up the last stretch of mountainside to the top of the Peak of Ivett.

CHAPTER ХХIII

It was early evening by the time they clambered up over the last little stony ridge and found themselves looking out across a small plateau dotted with clumps of cotton grass and tussocks of heather. The ground was black with peat and the air was heavy with the damp smells of autumn. Not a sound could be heard except the whistle of the wind through the grasses and they seemed so high that they felt more a part of the sky than the land. This was a different world, an ageless timeless world which the Urkku had never touched, and Nab stood rooted to the spot, awestruck by the power of the place and feeling its strength surge up through his body. He looked back and saw, stretching away as far as the eye could see, a great mosaic of colour as heather, gorse, trees and boulders fell away down the mountainside to merge eventually into a patchwork pattern of fields, woods, rivers and valleys, while the evening sun bathed everything in a misty golden haze.

He looked back to the plateau and saw, in the middle, a large pool of water, around which grew reeds and rushes. On one side of it there stood an ancient wizened oak tree whose twisted branches stretched out over the pool like the protective arms of an old, old man. Nab felt himself drawn to the pool. He walked over to it slowly and looked down into its black depths. He could not see the bottom and so black was it that the still water shone like a jewel. Then as he was standing on the side, he looked up into the sky and saw that the clouds were all coming together to form one huge billowy cathedral of white, tinged at the edges with pink and gold. Majestically it floated towards the peak and then stopped overhead. At the same time the wind suddenly got up, a warm caressing wind that blew the hair back from his face and bathed his eyes gently. He looked back at the pool and saw it shimmering with a strange light almost as if it were glowing like a fire and then he saw the oak tree give a great shudder and its branches moved up and out to stretch towards the sky. Every part of the tree, from the largest bough to the smallest twig, seemed to be moving. And now the Voice of Ashgaroth came to Nab on the wind.

‘Remove the shawl,’ it told him.

Nab had worn the beautiful multi-coloured shawl in which Brock had found him wrapped as a baby for so long that he had almost forgotten he had it. Next to his skin it lay as it always had. He took off all his outer garments until he reached the Belt of Ammdar and then, gripping the two clasps firmly, he unbuckled it and placed it on the earth. Now the shawl flapped loosely about his shoulders in the wind, its colours flashing in the sun. He took it off and laid it out on the ground. Seeing it again filled Nab with memories of Silver Wood and especially of Tara; Tara who had looked after him for so long and with whom he had had so many happy times in those early days, laughing and playing on long winter nights or on warm balmy summer evenings outside the sett.

‘Now unlock the caskets on the Belt of Ammdar. Remove the Three Faradawn and scatter them over the shawl. First the Faradawn of the Woods, then the Faradawn of the Sea and finally the Faradawn of the Mountains.’

Nab did as he was asked and as the contents of the caskets fell over the shawl the wind seemed to hold them firmly down so that none blew away.

Then the Voice of Ashgaroth spoke again, high, clear and pure in the wind.

‘Now is the end. And we are only just in time, for the world of the Urkku is coming to its conclusion. They are destroying themselves. Yet as I pledged, the animals and the Eldron will be saved. You have achieved what I asked of you; you and the chosen ones from Silver Wood, and I am well pleased. Take the caskets from the Belt and fill them with water from the pool. Then sprinkle the water over the shawl and the way will be clear.’

The three metal caskets unclipped easily. Nab bent down and scooped each one in the pool till it was full and then carefully carried them back to where the shawl lay flat on the dark peaty earth. Sam sat patiently watching a few paces away at the edge of the plateau. Nab could feel his heart thumping under his chest in excitement and apprehension but there was no fear, simply a sense of satisfaction. Then very gently, his hand shaking a little, he lifted the first casket and began to sprinkle the brackish water over the brilliant colours of the shawl. Nothing happened. He picked up the second casket and sprinkled the water from that over it but again nothing happened. Now it was the last of the caskets. The water fell evenly in little droplets and then, when the last drop had fallen the shawl burst into brilliant life and gave forth a glow so bright that Nab and Sam turned away and covered their eyes to shield them from the light. In a second it had died away and cautiously Nab looked back. All the colours and patterns had come together to form a picture of the world. On it they could see all the mountains and the woods and the seas, and over all the picture were lines which shone with a pure white light; a network of lines each leading to a point on the map. Nab looked at the picture of his own country and recognized the points as the Scyttels and the lines as the Roosdyche along which they had journeyed. Unknown to Nab, at the same moment that he was staring at the picture on the summits of the Peak of Ivett, so did the lines appear over all the lands and seas of the earth yet they could be seen only by the animals and by the Eldron and they wondered at them and felt themselves drawn along the lines so that throughout the world all the animals and the Eldron began to journey together along the ancient pathways and tracks of the Roosdyche.

It was then that the world was shaken by the first blast. Beneath his feet Nab felt the mountain shudder violently and he fell over. Before he could get up another, louder, blast filled the sky and he felt himself thrown backwards by a searing blast of heat which scorched his flesh and singed his hair. Sam crawled across to him whimpering and terrified and they raised their eyes and looked out on a gigantic mushroom which billowed and grew up from the earth. Nab watched, transfixed by its awesome beauty as the brilliance of its colours burned themselves into his brain and the evening grew light again. Higher and higher it rose, growing all the time until the sun was blotted out and the sky was merely a frame around its edges. All the time Nab watched he could feel the earth quivering and shaking under him and then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the oak tree moving its branches gracefully over the pool and, tearing his eyes away from the hypnotic beauty of the great cloud, he saw the pool suddenly drain of water so that there was simply a gaping hole in the earth where it had been. But then he saw that there was a roughly hewn flight of steps down the side of the hole; steps which appeared to lead down for ever for he could see no end to them.

Then screams and cries rose in a gigantic wail all over the world as explosion after explosion rent the air and the sky became filled with clouds of flashing colour. Terrible was the sound of pain as waves of heat rolled out over the land and the buildings of the Urkku collapsed like thistledown in the wind. And as the world destroyed itself the animals and the Eldron ran frantically along the silver paths and many were lost as they were caught in the blasts. Those that came to the end of their paths found the earth opened up for them and they escaped down these tunnels and caves, thankful for their deliverance out of the holocaust of horror which had come upon them. Men, women and children ran blindly down these unknown ways, without thinking or doubting, as the animals raced alongside them, badgers, foxes, lions and tigers, bear and bison, elephant and elk, every type of animal that lived on the face of the land. Under the seas, great caverns opened and through them swam the mighty whale and the gentle seal, the majestic shark and the playful dolphin and all the other fishes and mammals of the ocean.

By now Nab had begun to get very worried about Beth and the others. Suddenly a large mountain hare appeared over the edge of the plateau and scampered towards the steps. He stopped abruptly when he saw Nab and Sam and stared at them hard for a few seconds with surprise and pleasure for he knew who they were.

‘Aren’t you coming down into the tunnel?’ he said. There cannot be much time left for this world. The heat was terrible further down the mountain. Look!’ He pointed to where a big patch of his fur had been scorched leaving the skin showing through.

Nab’s heart leapt into his mouth and a terrible fear pounded in his brain so that his head felt as if it was being beaten against a rock. ‘They should be here,’ he said to himself.

‘Have you seen the others?’ he asked. ‘The girl, the hare, the badger and the owl.’

‘I saw them a while back,’ the hare replied, ‘before the explosions started. Being chased, they were, by a great pack of goblins and Urkku. They weren’t far behind and the girl looked tired. I wouldn’t wait if I were you. If they’ve escaped, they’ll come anyway. If not, well, there’s no point in sacrificing yourself, is there?’

Nab said nothing.

‘Come on,’ said the hare gently. ‘It’s only sense, isn’t it?’

The boy turned to him, and his dark eyes, which had seen so much, were brimming with tears.

‘I am not leaving here until they come,’ he said. ‘You go, Sam, but I must stay.’

The dog turned to him with a reproachful look.

‘Very well, then. Since you’re both determined to stay, I must go on my own. I wish you the best of luck. Goodbye.’ And the hare started to hop down the steps and was soon lost from sight in the gaping black hole.

It was then that a further explosion shook the air, this time nearer the mountain. When the initial deafening blast had died away, Nab lifted his head from where he had buried it in his arms and shouted to Sam above the noise.

‘I’m going to look for them. You stay here,’ and he got up from the damp ground.

‘I’m not leaving you again,’ Sam yelled back. ‘I’ll come with you.’

Cautiously they walked over to the edge and looked over. A great blast of heat met them and they gasped for breath. Nab smelt his hair burning and covered his face with his hands. Sam put his head down and they took a few steps down the side of the mountain. Then, above the din, they heard a shout. They stopped and looked at each other for reassurance that it had not been a figment of their imagination. Then it came again, louder this time and seemingly from behind them. Warily they turned around and looked back up the mountain. Over the edge of the plateau they saw Beth waving down to them with Warrigal perched on her shoulder and Brock and Perryfoot on either side. They were as surprised and overjoyed to see Sam as he and Nab were relieved to see them. The boy and the dog ran back up to the top where the six of them, all together again, greeted each other with joy and tears of thankfulness.

‘We were so worried. We were just coming down to look for you,’ Nab said when he was able to speak again without laughing for joy.

‘We nearly got caught,’ said Beth. ‘They were almost on us when the explosions started and then they panicked and most of them ran off. Then we seemed to be drawn towards a track that shone with a bright silver light which I don’t think they were able to see and the few that were left seemed to fall back so that we were on our own.’

They all walked slowly over to the dark hole where the pool had been and Sam told them how he had escaped from the Urkku. Then they sat under the old oak tree and Nab related all that had happened since they had parted on Rengoll’s Tor. They listened intently; Warrigal perched on one of the great roots that were exposed above the peat, his deep round eyes fixed unblinkingly on Nab. He had heard of the legend of the Map of Lines from Wythen on one of the long talks they used to have together sitting on summer evenings up in the Great Beech in Silver Wood, but the legend had been almost lost in the mists of time and even that wise old owl had known very little about it. How fascinated he would have been to have learnt about the part it was to play in their lives. Warrigal wondered whether or not the old owl had managed to escape the final destruction of the wood and, if he had, whether he had followed one of the lines to a tunnel such as they were sitting beside. Perhaps even now he was about to escape down one of the Scyttels and was thinking about them and of the ending of the story that he, Warrigal, had brought to him that first night when Brock had told him of his strange little discovery.

Perryfoot sat by Nab’s side, his ears flat along his back, contented and happy that all their struggles seemed to be at an end. Where they were going none of them knew but as long as they were together then he would have a home, and what a mighty collection of stories he had built up during their travels. Beth sat at his side stroking his back gently. He thought of the first time he had seen her down by the stream on that wonderful spring afternoon and how he had danced and played in front of her to catch her attention while Nab crawled close to see her more clearly.

Beth was also thinking about that afternoon, so long ago. She wondered whether or not it had been fate that they had met or whether Ashgaroth had somehow arranged it. How strangely her life had turned out! She thought of her parents and her brothers. As Eldron she knew they would have seen the lines and somehow she had faith that they had escaped down one of the Scyttels. She remembered the night when she had seen Nab’s face through the window on Christmas Eve and the turmoil in her mind when she had gone with him. How little she knew then of the world she was entering, the world of animals and elves and goblins, and little did she guess what horrors and wonders she would see. Now, perhaps, they had arrived at the end of their journey and all the things she had yearned for in her life with Nab would be possible.

Sam sat at her feet thinking back to his old life with the Urkku and to the early Council Meetings when he used to sneak out of the house to run across the fields and tell the wood of the Urkku plans. He remembered the cold wet evening when he had been shocked out of his peaceful doze by the fire to see Nab standing, wild and frightened, by the foot of the stairs and how he had raced to the wood to organize the escape.

Nab had finished his tale now and they sat without speaking while the earth juddered and shook beneath them. He felt a strange sense of calm and tranquillity as he looked around at the others, all of them lost in their private thoughts. He turned to Brock and saw that the badger, who was sitting at his side, was looking at him. Their memories were the same for their lives had been so intertwined, since that faraway snowy night when Brock had watched the strange couple come walking over the frozen fields carrying their little bundle, that they had shared everything together. They thought of Rufus who had been so suspicious of Nab at first but who had been killed trying to protect him, and of the others, Sterndale, Pictor, Thirkelow, all of them dead. They thought of Zinndy and Sinkka, Brock’s cubs who had left the sett and whom he had never seen again, and they thought of Bruin. Brock could still see the old badger charging at the Urkku with all the strength his tired body could muster and then, as he raced to escape and catch the others up, the way he had been flung in the air by the shot which took his life. And they remembered Tara. How they both wished she could have been here with them now. They thought of her without the sharp pangs of pain that they had felt at first but rather with a numb sense of loss as if a part of them was missing. They remembered all her little ways clearly and could see her vividly in their imagination. Their minds wandered through all the happenings of the past like a series of little pictures appearing in front of their eyes. Nab buried his face in the thick fur around Brock’s neck the way he used to and put his arms around the badger’s shoulders. Then suddenly a gigantic explosion sounded in his ears and looking up he saw the evening sky disappear behind an enormous black mushroom cloud and the world went dark.

‘Come on, old friend,’ he said. ‘I think it’s time we went,’ and he stood up. Then he took Beth’s hand and with Warrigal, Perryfoot, Sam and Brock following, he walked slowly over to the gaping hole in the earth and, without a backward glance, began to lead them down the rough stone steps into the dark void beneath.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This book is the result of an encounter I had some years ago with a strange old man whilst walking in the deep forests near my home. At the time I believed the meeting to be purely accidental but now I am not sure and it may well have been intentional on his part. Why he chose me to tell the story to I do not know. Perhaps it was because I spent many hours walking through the forests and moorland and he had grown accustomed to my face and perhaps also because he could detect my strong sympathies with the animal kingdom and the natural world.

Whatever the reason, the fact remains that, after our first meeting, we met on a number of occasions and he related to me each time a part of the story you have just read. We always met by chance, at least on my part, and there seemed to be no particular area he favoured for our meetings so that we met sometimes in the forest and at other times by a mountain river or somewhere on the moors. Also our meetings were sporadic; sometimes we would meet twice in a week and then two or three months might go by before I would see, quite unexpectedly, his familiar shambling figure coming towards me and we would select a suitably comfortable spot for our conversation. I call it a ‘conversation’ but in reality it was more a one-sided monologue with myself doing little more than listen and interpose the odd question to clarify some matter or other over which I was not clear. However, all my inquiries as to his family, background and home were pushed to one side and remained unanswered; he literally seemed to have ‘come from nowhere’.

After each conversation I returned home and recorded, as faithfully as I could, every detail of what he had told me. I determined early on that I would attempt to put my notes together in the form of a book and to this end it has been necessary to make certain changes in the way the story was told to me. These relate however only to style and format and I trust that I have remained true to the spirit in which it was related. Any errors there may be are of course entirely mine.

From the first I challenged the truth of his story but he simply smiled and told me that whether I believed his tale or not was of no consequence though he would be grateful if I would at least listen. This I did and as the story progressed I grew more and more fascinated and began to look forward to our meetings so that I could hear the next part of the tale. I also became less convinced that it was untrue until towards the end I became almost certain that it was, at the very least, based on fact. This, of course, must be left to the reader to decide for himself; it is not my intention to attempt to prove either way.

Our meetings lasted approximately two years; the first one taking place on a cold January day when I was making my way, in the late afternoon, up a steep path through the forest, and the last two years later in December when the snow was thick on the ground and I was sitting on the moors by a little brook that raced its way along through high banks of snow-covered heather. Since that day when he finished his story, I have not seen him, although I have spent as much, if not more time walking through my old haunts as before. Sometimes, however, I have felt aware of a ‘presence’ as if he was watching me and have been grateful for that knowledge. I am certain that someday I shall meet him again.

When he came to the end of the tale there were a number of very important questions which I wanted to ask him. Firstly I was anxious to learn what had happened to the animals and the Eldron after they had entered the tunnels and caves where the Scyttel had opened up for them.

‘They had not gone down many steps,’ he said, ‘when they seemed to be walking in space as if they were floating through the darkness. Then, without realizing it, they drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep and they slept for many, many moons in the arms of Ashgaroth. They did not grow old for Ashgaroth had frozen the passage of time for them and when, eventually, they awoke they found the sun streaming down upon them where they lay in their resting places in the Scyttel. When they walked out on to the face of the land it was to a new world; a world free of the Urkku, a world of infinite colour and magic.’

I remained intensely curious as to the fate of Nab and Beth and the other animals and still not wholly satisfied by his explanation of this ‘new world’ to which they had gone. ‘Were they happy there?’ I wanted to know. ‘Was it what they had dreamt of and suffered for so much?’

The icy wind blew little flurries of snow through the air which settled on our hair. The sun shone pale and watery in the steel grey winter sky. He looked up at me and smiled and as I gazed deep into his eyes I suddenly realized with a huge shock of amazement that the old man was Nab. My head spun for a second or two and I was unable to think straight but when I collected my wits again a further revelation came to me. If this old man was Nab then the world to which they had come was the same as that from which they had escaped – our world. A great wave of disappointment spread through me.

‘Then it was all for nothing,’ I blurted out. ‘Ashgaroth failed you.’

Nab looked down at the ground and was silent for a long time. When he spoke again there was sadness in his voice but there was also hope.

‘The Urkku,’ he said, ‘were created out of hatred, for revenge. They had no choice in the way they acted. But they are no more and because of what we did there is now a world peopled only by the Eldron. They have a choice; that is what separated them from the Urkku. The story then is not yet ended, for whether or not we have failed is for you and yours to decide. You are all the children of the Eldron.’

‘What of Beth and Brock, Warrigal, Perryfoot and Sam?’ I asked him. ‘And what of the elves; did they perish with the old world?’

‘When the old world destroyed itself, ’ he said, ‘the elves remained. They cured the wounds and healed the scars left by the Urkku and gradually they, with the help of Ashgaroth, brought the world back to its natural state. All this time we slept and it was only when the task had been completed that Ashgaroth released us from sleep. The elves are always here. As for the rest of us, Ashgaroth granted us the immortality of the elves. We live together still in the forests and the hills. They have seen you and sometimes you may have seen them though they, like all the other animals, have become wary now even of the Eldron for many of them have denied their true nature and grown similar in their ways to the old Urkku. ’ He paused and then as the sun began to sink in the evening sky he got up. ‘I must go now,’ he said. ‘Beth will be waiting for me,’ and he walked off over the snow towards the edge of the trees. I sat, still shaken by all that he had told me, and watched him go. He was about to enter the darkness of the forest when I thought I saw, coming out to meet him, a little group of animals. With my heart thumping wildly in my chest I stared hard through the gloom of the evening and was almost certain that I could make out the shapes of a badger, a dog, a hare and, flying low over their heads, a large brown owl. Then just behind them another figure; the figure of an old lady with her arms outstretched to greet him. I watched them for a second or two and they seemed in turn to be looking at me. Then suddenly they were gone, swallowed up by the forest.