Chapter Six - An Unexpected Guest
“Wake up, Wot! You’re having a nightmare!” said Nott. “Everything is alright.” Seeing his friend’s eyes open, he warned, “But keep quiet!”
Staring up at his small friend, Wot asked, “Was that all that it, simply a dream? Nott nodded. “But it seemed so real. I can still see it in here.” He touched his forehead.
“Yup, only a dream,” No replied.
If it was only a dream,” said Wot, “then why I feeling so bad, so traumatised by the visions I saw while asleep; the dank, dark room, heavy chains – and whatever it was that was after me?”
Having no other answer to offer, Nott told him to pull himself together, reminding him of the journey and the quest ahead.
“Hmm, okay,” Wot replied. “I believe you, that is was only a dream.” However, deep down, he still wondered if that was all that it was.
27th December.
It was a fine morning; the sky was incredibly blue with a few lazy clouds resting, going nowhere, so different from the fog they had experienced the previous night. Entering the cave Nott placed a large shell upon on the floor. Rubbing his eyes, yawning, trying to wake up, Wot said, “Morning, where have you been?”
“Outside.”
“Where?”
“I was out, walking…along the beach. You know, it’s a wonderful day out there. The fog has gone, and air is so clear. I sat on the beach for quite a while, enjoying the moment as it were, and I really enjoyed it.”
“That’s good,” Wot said encouragingly. “You should do it more often. You know, you rush around far too much.”
“Hmm,” Nott answered, staring out through the cave entrance. “I sat there, looking out to sea, imagining I could see all the way back to Ogbo Island, but I couldn’t. You know, we don’t have any idea when Umahia will contact us again… We really are on our own, and that scares me. ” Nott stopped for a moment, then added, “There’s not a soul to be seen out there.” Raising a finger, in a lighter tone he said, “Oh, I almost forgot, take a look at this and see what I gathered for breakfast.” Nott picked up the shell and proudly displayed its brimming contents. “Mussels! Well, what you think of them?” he asked. “Good for breakfast, yes?”
Wot looked into the shell and inspected its contents. They were of a different shape than those he usually ate, but they were definitely mussels, and fine-looking ones at that. “They are first-rate,” he replied, fingering a particularly large specimen.
“Not too many?”
“No.”
Encouraged by the positive remarks, Nott set about making a fire just inside the cave entrance upon which to cook them. In no time at all, it was burning nicely, so he placed the shell and its contents onto the glowing embers. Soon the wonderful aroma of seafood filled the entire cave.
“That sure smells good, said Wot, poking a finger into the ‘pot’.
“Yep, replied Nott. “And not a Mystic Rhyme used in the whole process.”
“Why not?”
“I was thinking…we don’t have any idea what we will have to face along the way, and whether or not Mystic Rhymes will always work. Are they guaranteed to work?” he asked.
Wot shrugged his shoulders.
“Having said that, I thought it might be a mistake to entirely depend on them...that’s why I did it, the mussels, without magical Rhyme”
Nodding his agreement, Wot fished out the first of the shellfish from the boiling waters. Making fast work of it, he exclaimed, “They taste even better than they smell, well done!”
This pleased Nott no end, then he also tried one, “God! They are good aren’t they?” he chuckled.
As they enjoyed the impromptu feast, Nott said, “Earlier, while I was out there, I was thinking about our situation.”
“Yes?”
“Well, I tried using the gift I received, from that Tree of Knowledge, to ascertain our position.”
“How did it go?” Wot asked, taking another shellfish from out the pot.
Smiling, Nott continued, “I am pleased to announce that it worked perfectly, that I can now tell you we are in the southeast corner of Onisha. We simply head due east for ten miles, and then turn northeast for another three miles, and if all goes according to plan, we should be upon the Blue River. After that it will be a simple matter to it in an easterly direction until it converges with the Green River, at which point the Fabled Crest should be clearly visible, above.”
“Can I finish breakfast, first?” said Wot, fishing out another hot mussel.
“Hmm, yes, but leave me a few!”
When they had finished the tasty retreat, Nott said, “Right, then, let’s be off.” After putting out the fire and concealing all evidence of their occupation of the cave, the two friends made their way out, into the brilliant sunlight. Shielding their eyes from the hard light the two Outlanders followed the base of the cliffs, which seemed to go on forever.
“It’s no good just trundling along beneath these cliffs,” said Nott. “If we are to have any hope of heading inland, we have no other option other than climbing them.”
Nodding, his friend agreed. The two friends began searching for a way up the steep cliffs.
“This looks promising,” said Nott, pointing to a gently sloping area at the base of the cliff. However, looking safe and actually being safe are two entirely different matters, which the two friends were soon to find out.
“You go first,” said Wot. “You are lighter; I will follow you.”
At first Nott’s progress was good; in only a few minutes he had reached a height of twenty feet. He felt positive, hopeful that he could make it all the way up to the top, so he shouted down, “Come on up, Wot. It’s okay. It’s a piece of cake.”
Thus summoned, his large friend began to climb up. Wot’s progress was much faster than Not’s and soon he was directly beneath him. “Go on,” he barked. “Can’t you go any faster?”
Searching for a safe foothold, Nott barked, “Give me a chance, alright? I am going as fast as I can!” Unfortunately, at that instant, the soft, sandy cliff wall beneath Wot gave way, and he fell to the ground, landing in a pile of sand, rocks and coarse grass.
Nott, who was still perched high above, said, “Phew that was close, I thought I was a goner there for a minute.” Then he noticed the precarious situation he was in, where the cliff he was hanging onto was no longer supported by anything beneath it. He froze, afraid to move even one muscle, in case the remainder of the cliff, and him along with it, came crashing down. Despite his misgivings, nothing happened. He waited some more, but just like before nothing happened. He began to believe, to convince himself, that if he was ever so careful, he might, just might reach the top of the cliff. He took a tentative first step, then another and another. Then, just as he was getting his confidence back and making good progress, the remainder of the cliff gave way, and he fell to the ground, on top of the sand, rocks and grass that Wot had landed upon a few minutes previous.
“Are you alright?” Wot asked, lending him a hand.
“Yeh, at least I think so,” Nott replied, standing up wobbly. Come on, I think we should try and find an easier spot, this spot just too hard,” he moaned.
As they walked along the base of the cliffs, hoping to find an easier way of heading inland, the two friends investigated every nook and cranny. After a mile hard walking, lady luck smiled on them. The cliffs began diminishing in height until they had finally petered out altogether. A wide grassy area stretched inland as far as the eye could see.
“That’s more like it,” they chirped, turning their backs on the sea, heading towards the lush, knee-high grass before them.
The soft sand beneath their feet was incredibly warm, caressing their toes and lifting their spirits, but this was not the Christmastime Wot had envisaged, when he had sat in front of the crackling log fire in his new Christmas slippers, ready for the an enjoyable evening watching TV. No, it was nothing like it. Looking down to his feet
Wot said, “My new slippers! Why, I am still wearing them. I forgot to change into my shoes!” His slippers were now incredibly grubby. He tried rubbing them clean on the back of his leg, but it made little or no difference. He felt so stupid, walking around another land, another world, in a pair of Christmas slippers, and grubby ones at that. He wanted to tell Nott, but he was too far ahead and out of earshot. Watching him, making his way through the sand and grass, in his blue suit and old trilby hat, Wot thought that perhaps he did not look so stupid after all.
The grassy area led them into a ancient greenwood. “This way,” said Nott as he passed by a particularly large tree. “It’s due east from here, for ten miles.”
“That’s an awful lot of walking.”
“I know, but at least we are alone, no one has seen us,” he replied. He had no idea whatsoever that a pair of eyes was watching their every move.
Their progress through the greenwood was at a reasonable rate, and it was a pleasant enough place to be in, as far as woods go, though not a patch on the island of Ogbo with its wonderful variety of flora and fauna. The colours here were less intense than on the island. Onisha had the all the appearance of a watercolour painting, which had been hung out in the sun and then been forgotten.
Thinking he heard something, Nott ordered a halt. They both listened, but the only thing they heard was silence. They began walking again but after a only few short steps he heard the same sound again. He ordered another halt, but the mysterious sound did likewise.
“What do you think it was?” Wot asked.
“I don’t know,” Nott whispered.
“Come on,” Wot urged. “We still have a long way to go.”
“Okay, but keep your eyes peeled,” said Nott. “I am sure something is out there – I am sure of it.”
Over the next hour, Nott ordered another five unscheduled stops, each time insisting he heard something. Wot tried to understand and to accept Nott’s concern, but in the end, his patience was wearing thin. Unwavering, with no doubts at all that someone or something was out there watching them Nott’s senses were in extra sensory mode. Despite that, for the time being at least, he had no other option other than trying to ignore it and continue the journey.
At noon, they stopped for a much-needed rest break. “Go on, Nott,” said Wot. “Nobody is watching, ask the little people for a meal, if they can hear you from here, that is.”
“Right, good idea,” he replied. “Give me a minute, though, to get my thoughts together.” Pacing the ground, Nott began talking quietly to himself. When he came to a stop, he said...
“A meal we need, a meal for two,
A lunch, it’s not taboo,
Meat and vitals, soup and rolls,
Served on plates and deep filled bowels,
Varied fruits to follow on,
So we can travel ‘till tomorrow dawn.”
They listened for the rush of tiny feet, but nothing stirred. As they waited in silent anticipation, nothing seemed to be happening. Did he have the words wrong? Could the little people, the Orlu, even hear them in this remote location? Near on five minutes passed, they had just about given up hope of seeing the little people, when the sound of many tiny feet rushing and running caught their attention. Several Orlu, all of the dressed in the same green garb as the one who had drenched Nott, appeared in front of them. One of them, whizzing at great speed, placed a tablecloth upon the ground. Several others placed all the requested goodies upon it, then they whizzed away.
Although their meal was not up to the same standard as the one they had enjoyed in the old house, it was certainly a good spread. The two friends wanted to say thank you, but the little folk had disappeared without trace. Although the mussels they ate that morning had been good, the two friends were famished and they tucked into the meal, with gusto. It was a most enjoyable repast, so much more than the bread and butter of the previous evening. There were three types of dessert to choose from, including Wot’s favourite – lemon meringue pie, and to wash it all down there was a large pot of piping hot tea.
Throughout their meal, Nott found it impossible to shake off the feeling that someone was still watching them. Hearing rustling in bushes, Nott suddenly sprang into action. Showing absolutely no fear of whom or what might be lurking within them, he ran over and dived in with a vengeance. WHAM, he knocked the hidden voyeur to the ground, pinning them there.
Taken aback by the sheer speed of his friend, Wot rushed over to see what all the fuss was about. On peering into the bushes, the sight of Nott pinning a young woman securely to the ground, confronted him. She was around nineteen or twenty years of age, with long, dark hair, which had a golden coloured ring woven into one side of it. She wore a light, khaki green dress made from a rough canvas like material, both equally elegant and rugged. With no shoes upon her feet, she portrayed a conflicting image, of style and hardship.
“It’s a girl!” said Wot. “How did you know she was there?”
Asking him to keep an eye on her while he got to his feet, Nott tried to present himself as best he could under the peculiar circumstances. After brushing down his suit, he straightened his tie and replaced his old trilby hat back onto his head. “Now, who are you?” he asked. “And why were you lurking in the bushes?”
“I am sorry,” the girl replied, “I saw you, earlier, when you were on the coast, when you fell off the cliff.”
Wanting to forget that unfortunate incident, Nott changed the subject, said, “Tell us your name.”
“It’s Kakuri,” the girl replied. “I live on the coast…not far from where I spotted you.”
“Why were you following follow us?”
“I was curious...as to who the two stranger were!”
The two friends looked briefly around, wondering whom the strange people might be, then realised it was they.
“You are Outlanders?” she continued. “Aren’t you?”
Nott briefly answered a yes, then he continued with his line of questioning. “Where are your family?”
“I don’t have any,” she replied, her head lowered. My mother died when I was young…she was also an Outlander. I have no brothers or sisters, and my father, Suru, was killed…”
“Oh, I am sorry,” said Nott. “How did it happen?”
“He was murdered…by Miafra.” She stopped for a few seconds, remembering. “But I must not say this…forgive me, forget what I have said.” With that, she tried to run away. Wot stopped her, though ever so gently.
“Why did Miafra kill him?” he asked.
Gazing intently into Wot’s eyes, she replied, “He, my father, was one of the Brotherhood of Mystics. Miafra killed him…he killed them all in cold blood. Why did he have to go do it?” she asked.
“You will have to see Miafra about that,” said Wot.
She started to cry.
“Come on, there’s no need for that,” said Nott, feeling sorry for her. “Would you like something to eat?” he asked, trying to divert her attention away from such memories.
Grabbing hold of a chicken leg, a large chunk of bread and the remains of the lemon meringue pie, Kakuri scoffed the lot back as if she had not eaten in days. Wiping the remnants of the ‘pie from her mouth, she said, “I saw you call them, the Orlu. We used to be able to do that…to summon them. I can still remember the great meals and parties we had, life was good then. Why has it all changed? I really hate that man, Miafra.”
“I was under the impression that everyone’s memories had been altered, that nobody was capable of seeing these changes for what they really are,” said Wot. “But here you are, incredibly aware of them, how can this be?”
Kakuri finished chewing the last piece of crusty pastry, then she said, “I think it might be something to do with the location we are in – so far from Miafra. I think this helps me to remember. I don’t know for sure, though… What I do know,” she said, “is that over here, on the west of the country, there is a force, a power trying to resist.
It seems to come and go with the wind – always strongest when it is blowing in from the sea. When I was young,” she said, “I remember my father telling me the fable of the mythical land of Ogbo, were it is said we all originally came from. He told me that no one knew its true location. I feel, somehow, that it is out there…beyond the fog that comes and goes with the wind – I am sure of it.” For a few moments she said nothing more, then gathering her thought, she said, “He told me many more things about the old ways, but being so young I did not always pay attention to what he was saying. It is only now do I understand the truth and importance of his words…” Kakuri’s mind wandered monetarily into the past, and then she said, “Perhaps I can resist his powers because I am only half Onishian…”
“Are there many other people living in these parts?” Nott asked.
“No, I am the only one still here,” she replied. “I lived with my father, that is until he...” Remembering, she became quiet again.
Despite Umahia’s implicit warning not to trust anyone, the two lads had taken a shine to this young woman, Kakuri. They felt she could be the exception. They told her many things about themselves at this time, about their lives back home, and how they had came to be in Onisha. They also told her about their journey, their mission. In return, Kakuri told them about much about Onisha, and dangers that might lie ahead.
When they had finished eating, she asked would they let her try to thank the little people. “Of course you can,” said Wot, who had warmed to her. For a few moments, Kakuri sat perfectly still, and then she sang out…
“Little people I thank you so,
For the food and drink we needed,
I am so happy for this, you know,
To have seen you again, and greeted.”
The sound of so many speeding feet filled the air, and then the very same group of little people returned, massing around Kakuri, each one of them hugging her affectionately.
“We have missed you, and all the peoples of Onisha,” they said. “We so miss serving and helping you all.” Glancing across to the Outlanders, they said, “These men are good. Help them as best you can, Kakuri, for they will need it.” Without further ado, the Orlu rushed madly about, gathering the remains of the meal and its associated paraphernalia, and then were gone.
“That settles it!” Kakuri declared. “I am coming with you!” The two friends, outvoted by a majority of one, agreed.
As the band of three set off, they discussed the similarities and differences between the two worlds they hailed from.
When darkness approached and they needed a safe place to bed down, they were still deep within the greenwoods. It was in this requisite that Kakuri made her first contribution to the newly formed group. Catching their attention, waving to them, she said, “Follow me.” Leading the way along a narrow, winding track that might have gone unnoticed if it had not been for her, the two Outlanders followed Kakuri up a steep little hill with a an old bedraggled hut nestling atop it. As the two Outlanders looked around, inspecting their temporary home, Kakuri said. “This is a Minna. It is an old ceremonial hut. Minnas are located upon all of the highest points across Onisha. On the first day of each year, in Minnas such as this, the person appointed by the elders of their town or village, lights the fire of greeting to the first sunrise… I wonder if anyone will remember, this coming new year’s day… I doubt it.” Her thoughts returned to happier times, and she felt sad again. Returning to the present, she said, “I hereby promise, in front of you both, I will return to this very Minna on New Year’s Day and light this beacon.” The gumption of this feisty young woman, this Kakuri, impressed Wot and Nott no end.
Finding some blankets folded neatly in the corner of the hut, Kakuri threw some to her newfound friends, saying, “Here you are, take them, it will get cold later on.”
“Thanks,” they replied. Unfolding the blankets, they each tried to find a comfortable piece of floor upon which to bed down. As they drifted off to sleep the temperature began to drop, they pulled the old blankets higher around them.