The commotion was gathering momentum until one of the black robed figures raised his hand and struck the tan robed figure with a smack that echoed across the quiet and dislodged the scarf hiding its face, with obvious pain.
Dramble gasped when he realised the robed figure was a middle aged woman and suspected, by the force of the blow, the other two were men. His ire exploded at the cowardly attack on a woman and without thinking, erupted from his hiding place, carried on by the pent up anxiety of Elly’s plight and screamed like an attacking banshee, running toward the scene in a flashing blur.
The abrupt and unexpected assault made Dramble’s tiny frame appear like an army of one, and the three figures broke from the scene in three different directions, kicking up clouds of dust in an attempt to escape the unknown assailant, stumbling and scurrying over piles of charred rubble in a rabid bid for freedom.
Dramble didn’t know which one to chase first and halted his attack in a flurry of confusion, watching all three departing figures in a bewildered scan.
This strange place was becoming stranger by the moment, but his main concern was tracking down Elly and her captors before it was too late. The thought of Elly’s abduction drew another painful stab and with a final glance at the distant figures, he set about to meticulously follow the clues her captors had left plainly printed in the copper coloured dust.
*~*~*~*
Chapter 17
Stinging tears made it difficult to see the trail and the obstructions, lacing it with unseen dangers as she made a hasty retreat. Breathless and gasping for air to refill her heaving lungs, she slowed her furious pace to a stop and turned to face the direction she had just come, holding her hand over the throbbing injury site and feeling the heat of indignation mix with the bitter wound aching relentlessly across her face.
Bending painfully into an arch and holding her side as a stitch gripped at her stomach, momentarily paralysing her escape but her eyes never left the desolate scenery, constantly searching for the presence of the Alama Masu or the wild man who had charged at them from out of nowhere.
A woven, woollen scarf fell limp from across her shoulders and dangled spastically to the ground. She grasped it with a high degree of annoyance and cast it over her shoulder again; the blow from the Alama Masu had dislodged it from her face and given them a clear view of her identity, something she hadn’t ever wanted to do.
As the stitch began to subside and her breathing slowed, she scanned the flat horizons with the intensity of a searchlight, cutting across a darkened sky and scrutinized the lifeless, arid plain for movement.
She couldn’t believe the Alama Masu would stage a stunt like this on someone who had nothing but good intentions directed towards them. A suspicious thought stole across her mind and mingled with her folly: maybe they were intent on following her to learn the whereabouts of the family sanctuary, something she had point-blank refused when they had asked her.
The implications of the thought caused her to drop warily to her haunches and hide behind a rubble barrier, blending in with the surrounds while she tried to think what to do next. An indignant hand lightly touched the throbbing wound on her face again and with tender fingers wiped away the flowing tears, signifying they were doing their best to quell the pain in her eye.
A stab of conscience played with her mind and a new problem presented, adding to her mounting concerns. The pain in her face would soon turn to a telltale bruise in plain sight for all to see. She would have to concoct a new ruse to cover her nefarious activity and divert suspicion away from herself and the evidence of her treachery.
Things were fast getting out of hand and she squatted motionless behind a charred rubble hill and listened to the lifelessness of the ruins, straining her ears to hear anything, but the only sounds were her own guilty heartbeat pounding loudly in her ears.
How had a simple business transaction turned into a nightmare, leaving her holding the bunny?
A disdainful glint mingled with the pain as she began to recall the screaming attacker. She suddenly realised he was only small in stature, but very loud. He didn’t have the black hood or the loathsome identifying mark of the Alama Masu... then who was he?
Even the resistance tried to mimic the hooded form of the Alama Masu and blend in to avoid capture, torture and immediate death; but the mark was the only way to ensure they belonged to the contemptuous satanic being the Alama Masu worshipped and without it, among other things, they would eventually be found out and executed.
The minutes turned to hours, but the stinging injury remained ever vigilant, reminding her of her last encounter with the people she thought she could trust.
Her haunches were becoming sore from the cramped position and tingling in her legs told her they needed more blood flow. With a huff, she unfolded her legs and dropped her body into a sitting position, immediately relieving the tingling but disturbing the dust into a small choking cloud and irritating her throat instead.
Reluctantly, after completing a final scan of her surrounds and satisfied the threat had diminished, she decided to continue her escape, finding the trail back into the sanctuary but all too aware another looming storm was about to erupt back among the family.
As she picked her way through the rubble she teased out her thoughts, wondering how she could account for the massive bruise and the copper dust staining her tan robe.
*~*~*~*
Christina was a single recent addition to the family, rescued from the cutlass of the Alama Masu by the Raiders only three months ago. She was a middle aged woman, dogged by fears and claustrophobic in her new underground world, but she was well liked by the other women. They’d tried to coach her through her terrors, however the only thing that would quell the panic attacks was an unwise and secret rendezvous with the surface and the open space of the ruins.
She didn’t understand the coded hand grips located around the corridor walls and constantly got lost in the dimly lit maze of passages, even though the rest of the family had tried desperately to tutor her. A puzzled look stretched across the face of one of the women when Christina asked for directions to the Pool of Strange Fire, quickly explaining the smell of sulphur relieved her symptoms. Accepting her explanation at face value, she willingly pointed Christina down the correct path and added a warm hug to seal her journey.
Christina could feel her anxiety rising and gasped heavily on the sulphurous vapour hanging like a wet blanket over the Pool of Strange Fire. In a desperate lunge for open air, she tripped and crashed forcefully to her knees, clipping her head and shoulders on the wall as she fell, but quickly regained her stance and stumbled for the hidden entrance, tussling with claustrophobia and desperately trying to break its stranglehold gripping at her throat.
Finally bursting out into the red sunlight and heaving voraciously, she dropped to her knees and began to weep, tormented by the pain rippling through her head and shoulders but relieved to be outside again.
A shadow fell across Christina’s weeping form, wrenching her heart and frightening her like a cowering child caught in the act of some insignificant misdemeanour. She stumbled sickly to her feet and in the process, fell forcefully against the figure, but just then a stern male voice called from the secret entrance and directly to the two itinerant figures, startling them both.
“What is the meaning of this? Do you intend to advertise the sanctuary to the enemy with your foolishness and jeopardise the lives of all it protects?”
*~*~*~*
It took a few anxious moments for Dramble to recover from the strange and violent meeting he had just witnessed. It appeared to be some kind of clandestine gathering, judging by the reaction and the pace all three participants left.
The painful slap and its hollow sound reverberated in Dramble’s mind, hoping Elly’s captors weren’t of the same brave clan. Indignation once again found its voice in Dramble’s psyche, pushing him onwards with a determined gait, searching the agitated copper dust for the tracks that would l
ead him to Elly’s abductors.
It was obvious now that Elly and Dramble weren’t the only inhabitants of the disastrous ruins and judging by the meeting he’d inadvertently broken up, there were at least two distinct and possibly opposing groups.
Having no knowledge of the landscape or its people, he considered it a prudent move to treat everyone as a possible conspirator, with a decisive investment in Elly’s and his demise.
He decided that when and if he rescued Elly, he would do everything he could to get her back to her own world, but that seemed like an even greater feat than finding her again in the current baffling circumstance.
He chided himself for babbling and wasting time, but once again determinedly lowered his head and searched for the trail before the journey forcefully ended for the day and he lost the tracks in the aging daylight.
After a flurry of wrong leads, confounded and aggravated by the footprints of the rapidly departing despots he’d disturbed this morning, he abruptly found the twin tracks of the booted abductors and just as he suspected, the tracks were pushing on relentlessly towards the glass dome.
After frustrating hours of meticulous tracking, the glass dome once again adorned the horizon, tempting Dramble to push on without following the tracks, but caution prodded his good sense and he fought the desire to run ahead.
Then strangely, the imprints became confused and abruptly, there were three sets of tracks; the familiar imprint of Elly’s runners stamped the ground and led her captors on a merry dance. As Dramble followed the confused procession, darting this way and then that, the boots followed her every move until once again, the dictatorship was re-established and Elly’s prints disappeared.
Up to this point, Elly was alive and coherent enough to give her abductors the runaround.
Hope bristled at Dramble’s mind and then a delirious imagining drew a sly smile; just possibly, Elly had intentionally broken free of their grasp long enough to leave a clear message in the coppery dust.
Dramble danced with delight; she knew he would be looking for her and worked out a plan to communicate that she was still alive and able to resist to some extent.
Then his dance unexpectedly stopped, hoping she hadn’t been seriously punished for her disobedience.
Dropping his head to the trail again and filled with optimism, he took up the indicators and noticed that one of the tracks was stamping unevenly; Elly was resisting her captivity and making his awkward gait stamp her efforts in the dust.
Dramble felt a tinge of pride; his intelligent girl was still writing him a message and recording her sojourn for him to follow.
*~*~*~*
Chapter 18
Hakham’s piercing stare bored into the two figures standing silently and directly in front of him, forcing them to avert his steely gaze and concentrate ashamedly on the still, unmoving water of the Lake of Purity.
His hooded features appeared calm, but that only added to the tension and the mystery of the desperate situation.
The altar torch flame flickered with vigour, as if it was adding its unspoken opinions to the severity of the meeting now in progress and painted disturbed shimmering images around the two women suspected of treason.
If convicted, they faced expulsion from the family and being cast into the chaotic and fatal never world of the ruins. If they weren’t found by the family’s enemy, then thirst, starvation and exposure would, quickly descending upon them among the dusty ruins and crushing the life from their bodies in a cruel and violent hammer blow of painful death.
Beyond the confines of the sanctuary and well out of sight, a large gathering of family members pressed into the cramped corridors, stricken silent by the gravity of the situation but close enough to capture any spoken word spilling from the sanctuary and confirming Jehovah’s expected verdict laid upon the women by Hakham’s voice.
Finn and Caleb stood either side of the condemned pair, guarding their escape route and eager for the confession one of the women bore. The confession of a traitor, so often placing the family and the Raiders in ultimate peril.
Finn was determined Jehovah would expose the guilty one and the traitor would pay for their game of deceit in justified expulsion from the safety of the family.
Hakham’s silence was unnerving Finn, wondering whether the old man was out of his depth with the situation, but the Godly wisdom of the elderly was never in a hurry to fill awkward voids, giving an extended occasion for the perpetrator to consider their guilt and squirm.
The burning gaze diverted from the two women and Hakham’s eyes settled on the rock curtain separating the sanctuary from the altar, inadvertently listening for Jehovah’s timing and His instructions. Unknown to those waiting in silent trepidation, Hakham already knew the guilty party and Jehovah’s will concerning them. Jehovah’s decision wouldn’t be easily understood, but he had to trust his God that the best interests of the family were at the forefront of Jehovah’s wisdom.
A quiet murmur rippled through the family as Hakham finally broke the unnerving tension, realising something was about to happen and influence the lives of everyone concerned.
Hakham’s low rasp was hard to hear and a desperate whisper spread throughout the cramped gathering, appealing to those close to the front of the crowd for clarification.
“What did he say?!” the whisperers frantically begged for understanding.
A harsh whispered, “Sshhh!” was the only reply and once again, the family dove into anxious silence.
“Louisse, you have been with the family for the longest and are respected among the gathering, therefore you will speak first. Tell those assembled and in the presence of the Lord God Jehovah, why you were outside of the sanctuary without the protection of a Raider and of the bruise you are intent on hiding.”
Hakham could see the momentary struggle parade through Louisse’s eyes like she was flicking through television channels searching for an appropriate script. Settling on a convincing pious libretto, she cleared her throat, aware the next few moments could determine her fate with her life dependant on a convincing show.
“I... I was only...”
“Speak up, Louisse, so your words can be measured by all,” Hakham prompted, his voice just above a rasp.
Louisse pulled in a breath and continued, “If I answer truthfully before the family and the altar, I am aware my words will condemn my sister, Christina. For my reasons for being outside were only to enquire of Christina’s journey among the ruins.”
A disturbed murmur ran through the family gathering; Christina had acted strangely since the day she arrived and maybe the reasons for her behaviour were only just now coming to light.
Christina’s astonished face lit with contention and glowed red, stuttering to defend herself.
Hakham held up his hand and silenced the debacle about to turn into a flaring fight. “You will speak next, Christina,” Hakham assured, and demanded order in the proceedings.
Louisse, now determined in her debut speech, spoke with great conviction. “As I said, I followed Christina along the passage past the Pool of Strange Fire, concerned she was lost. She broke out into the ruins and when I tried to stop her, she went berserk and struck me across the face with her hand; but I struggled with her and that’s how she injured her head, and you can see the place on her robe where she fell heavily to the ground after I fought back. Fortunately for me, the lookout found us just before Christina could counterattack. I am thankful he did, for you can see the bruise across my face and the force this woman is capable of.”
Frustrated tears were forming in Christina’s eyes; she couldn’t believe the story she was hearing and the truth was far from Louisse’s words.
“What do you say to the accusations levelled against you, Christina?” Hakham challenged.
Christina dropped to her knees and began to tremble. “Before Jehovah and all the kindness of the family, I have no reason to have done what Louisse has accused me of. As many know, I suffer from count
less fears, and claustrophobia is one of them. The confines of the cave makes my head feel like it’s going to explode and I panicked trying to get outside. I am not gifted with steady feet and tripped in the darkness and fell against the wall; that’s how I injured my head and shoulders and I never raised my hand to Louisse for any reason! I know I should have sought the protection of a Raider before leaving the sanctuary, but I felt like I was about to die if I didn’t get out. This was my only transgression against the family and I apologise profusely for not following the rules.” Christina began to sob and through her blubbering she managed to add, “I’m not a traitor!”
Finn stared down at the two women, confused; both were convincing in their stories but both told vastly differing tales and for once he was glad the decision wasn’t his. He didn’t know who to believe, but one thing was certain.
Someone was lying.
Caleb, however, was determined that Christina was the mole, but his rumbling disgust was interrupted by Hakham’s voice.
Hakham knew dissension had been sown among the gathering and he was determined to crop it before it took root and destroyed the love shared among the family. “It is not our place to judge between our two sisters. Jehovah Himself will eventually bring about His decision and expose the treachery. Therefore you will be responsible, Caleb, to see that Christina’s fears are catered for and she gets outside when needed. Unless you are occupied with a raid, you will treat Christina as a respected mother and look after her needs.” Hakham’s gaze burnt into Caleb, reading the smouldering hatred with acute accuracy.
The light of indignation flickered in Caleb’s eyes. Had he just been demoted to a babysitter to someone who didn’t deserve anything? But now Hakham was treating her like a honoured member of the family. Caleb bowed his head in submission to the elder. He would obey, even if he didn’t agree with him.
Hakham then directed his glare to Finn. “In the same light, esteemed leader of the Raiders, you will be responsible for Louisse. Unless you are on a raid, you will attend to her every need as a son tends his mother. She will not leave the sanctuary without your knowledge and company, and you will be responsible for her welfare.” Hakham then concluded with, “Jehovah has spoken.”