The Keep

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 9The slope up the other side of the col was steeper than the one they had just descended but the snow was thinner and although they still had to use their sticks to test some of the way, it was less demanding.

“I don’t know all these old tales,” Nyk protested as Josyff pressed his request again for information about the Keep. “You’d be better asking some of the old-timers at the inn when we get to the village. Buy them enough ale and they’ll tell you tales to fill a book.”

Josyff paused and turned round to look again at the shattered peak of the mountain that Nyk had called Valsen. From his now higher vantage, the mountain looked even more unusual than it had from below. Most of the peaks about them showed the typical signs of ancient glaciation but Valsen was crowned with a peculiarly disordered mass of misshapen and jagged rocks. It looked to Josyff almost as though the mountain top had been shattered by a great force and the remains scattered about in a desperate fury.

His eyes narrowed. Was it his imagination or just the fall of the lengthening shadows deceiving him at this distance, but were the rocks different from those lower down the slopes of the mountain? Were they perhaps like those used to the Keep? And some of them seemed to be bent and twisted, as though sculpted by a wayward child. What natural force could have done that?

“Anything wrong, boss?”

Nyk had continued up the slope and his distant shout cut across Josyff’s questions. He almost stumbled as he turned round too quickly.

He was breathing heavily when he caught up with Nyk again.

“Take it easy, boss,” came a cautionary greeting. “You’re probably getting tired. It’s not far now.”

“I was just looking at the mountain,” Josyff said. “It’s different. Looks almost out of place in a way. As if it didn’t belong here. And the rock formations along the peak are very unusual.”

Nyk nodded. “It is a strange place,” he said, almost reluctantly. “The locals don’t like going near it.”

Josyff did not register the reply immediately, then he looked puzzled. “Why would they come out here anyway?” he asked.

“Lost sheep and the like,” Nyk replied casually, setting off up the slope again. “And soft city folk climbing — for fun, as they say,” he added with a knowing smile.

Josyff allowed him the small jibe. “Do you ever get soft city folk going as far as the Keep?” he asked in the same vein.

Nyk stopped for a moment before replying.

“Nah, now you mention it, we don’t. Odd really, I suppose, you can see the place from most of the peaks round here. You’d think someone would drop by now and then.” As he walked on, it was obvious that the thought had never occurred to him before.

“It’s probably not widely known about. I’d never heard about it until I was sent here,” Josyff said, feeling some obligation to reassure. “And it’s hardly a welcoming sight, is it? If the first time you see it is after a long hard climb, it’s not something that’ll send you scurrying back down and rushing along to see it. And it’s some way away as well.”

Nyk conceded the point and added his own. “It’s probably one of those places you mean to look at one day, but never get round to it.” He shrugged. “Anyway, we can do without weary travellers cluttering up the place incessantly — wanting this, wanting that. There’s enough work to do there without playing inn-keeper to...”

“Soft city folk.” Josyff laughed at Nyk’s manner as he completed his sentence for him, then a silence developed. “No disrespect, Nyk, but is there all that much work to do?” Josyff asked after a while, as much to break the silence as out of curiosity. “Granted, it’s an odd place, but from what I've seen it’s very well built.”

Nyk paused and stretched.

“You’ve not been all over it yet, boss. Deceptive, is the Keep. Much bigger than it looks.” He frowned slightly, as though at some old problem. “There’s parts I’ve not been to. And a lot more below ground.”

Josyff managed to hide his surprise. In his exploration of the building so far he had not come across any basement levels, not that basement really meant anything in that uneven terrain. Nevertheless, the revelation brought back to him vividly how important it was that he find his equipment and get this job under way. Who knew what other surprises this place might have in store for him? What it was, or had been, wasn’t really of any significance.

“There’s the heating, for instance,” Nyk went on, at the same time indicating the top of the rise as their destination and moving off again. “Not to mention the lighting... and the drainage... they work fine, but you generally find a dog’s breakfast when you have to work on them, all of them... and all those roofs...”

“Well, fortunately, the heating and lighting aren’t part of my job,” Josyff said. “Except where they can be seen.”

“Think yourself lucky,” Nyk rejoined. He reached down to help Josyff up a smooth sloping rock rendered slick with frozen snow which he had clambered up by means of a scrambling rush. Josyff was glad of the strong grip that closed about his arm and hauled him upwards as his own rush was less effective. “I’ve never fathomed out properly how they work.”

“What?” Josyff exclaimed, thinking he had misheard.

“There it is.” Nyk was pointing towards a jumble of rocks partially covered with snow. He looked up at the darkening sky. “We’ve done well. Should get to the village late tomorrow afternoon, after all.” He slapped his gloved hands together noisily. “Let’s get the stove out and some food on the go.” His whole manner was suddenly relaxed and easy. “I’m no Qualto in the kitchen but...”

“After a walk like that, anything will taste good,” Josyff interjected, finding Nyk’s manner infectious though he could not make out where the cave was that they were supposed to be sheltering in.

It became apparent as Nyk walked to the far side of the rocks.

Josyff was not sure what he had expected, but this was not it. It looked more like the entrance to some animal’s lair. It occurred to him ruefully that this job was becoming stranger and stranger.

“It’s bigger inside,” Nyk said, catching his reaction. Swinging his pack off his back he dropped down onto all fours and briskly brushed a small accumulation of snow aside. “And remarkably dry too, as I recall.” He rooted into his pack and produced a torch then crawled into the cave, pushing his pack ahead of him.

Josyff struggled out of his own pack and was about to follow Nyk when an exclamation stopped him.

“Oh!”

It was muffled and surprised.

“Boss.”

Surprised and urgent.

Pushing his pack in front of him as Nyk had done, Josyff quickly scrambled through the entrance. It widened almost immediately and, as he straightened up, he had a fleeting impression of a low-ceiling and a narrow space. What caught his attention however, was the focus of Nyk’s wavering torch.

Someone else was in the cave.

Josyff felt a mixture of surprise and alarm somewhat incongruously mixed with a pending apology for having barged in on someone already sheltering there, but these faded as he looked at the motionless figure lying on the floor of the cave. Face to the wall and knees drawn up to its chest, it seemed to be unnaturally still. Josyff felt a chill forming in his stomach. Nyk was already kneeling beside the figure.

“Is he...?” Josyff began anxiously, as he took out his own torch and dropped down beside him.

“She,” Nyk corrected as he pulled back the figure’s hood to reveal thick hair, black in the torchlight and secured by a ribbon around the forehead.

Josyff reached past him and tentatively laid his hand on the woman’s cheek. It was very cold. The chill in his stomach intensified in response to the touch. Was she dead? A rush of pointless questions came, his mind racing ahead. Who was she? How did she come to be here, so far from anywhere? Not one of Nyk’s soft city folk out climbing, surely? And how was this going to end?

His hand moved from her face to her throat and, unnecessarily, he held up the other for silence. It took him a considerable effort of will to hold his fingers still, shaking as they were with cold and nervousness, but eventually he was able to detect a pulse.

“She’s alive anyway,” he whispered. “But her pulse feels weak.”

He bent down and placed his ear by her mouth, noting as he did so that her lips were dry and painfully cracked. A faint, cold breath touched him.

“She’s breathing.”

He knelt up and shook her gently. “Can you hear me? Wake up!”

After another shake, the woman twitched and made a peculiar whimpering sound. Relief swept over Josyff.

“Wake up!” he said again, more loudly and shaking her harder.

He glanced over his shoulder at Nyk. “Get the stove lit and something cooking,” he said. “She’ll need something warm inside her.” Unusually, Nyk hesitated for a moment before Josyff’s “Quickly!” galvanized him.

The woman continued moving in a vague and uncoordinated fashion and making incoherent sounds. Josyff spoke to her soothingly and his shaking became a gentle rocking while Nyk busied himself with the small stove. Soon it was hissing comfortingly and warming the soup they had brought with them. Nyk delved into his pack and retrieved a blanket which he stretched across the cave entrance, securing it with his pack and a few rocks. Despite his concern for the woman, Josyff noted that it was practised procedure and was glad of it. He nodded approvingly. It would keep a little heat in and protect them if the wind rose.

“We should get her off the cold ground, boss,” Nyk said as he returned to the stove and made a final adjustment to the height of the flame.

The woman’s eyes jerked open as the two men were awkwardly wrapping her in one of their sleeping bags. At first they were unfocused then they widened in alarm. Her mouth opened and a hoarse cry started to emerge but it stopped abruptly as she began shivering violently. Josyff put his arms around her and held her tight. She struggled.

“You’re all right. You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you,” Josyff said, over and over. Eventually she became calmer, though Josyff sensed it was as much through weakness as any reassurance he was offering.

“Here, drink this,” Nyk said, proffering a spoonful of soup.

The woman looked at him both fearfully and suspiciously, but then caught sight of the spoon and lunged at it voraciously.

“Slowly, slowly,” both men protested, but to no avail. With an unexpected strength the woman levered herself free of Josyff, sat up and reached for the bowl and spoon. Nyk glanced at Josyff who gave a disclaiming shrug and gestured that he hand them over. The woman gulped down the first spoonful then almost dropped the bowl as the warm soup met her chapped lips. Nyk caught it dextrously. For a moment the woman was motionless, her eyes tight shut and the back of her gloved hand pressed against her mouth. Then watering eyes were open and the mouth was determined as she relinquished the spoon, retrieved the bowl and drank the rest of the soup noisily and with an urgency that took the two men aback. Nyk held out a piece of bread as she peered into the empty bowl and she seized it and ate it with the same urgency, pausing only to wipe a squashed portion of it around the bowl.

For some reason the gesture amused Josyff and he smiled.

“Civilization seeping back into your bones?” he said.

The woman, wiping her eyes, looked at him uncertainly and then, with an expression that was a mixture of pleading and shamefacedness, held out the bowl to Nyk who refilled it. This time she used the spoon, though still with some urgency, pausing occasionally to purse her lips.

“I thought I was going to die,” she said as she was finishing. Her voice was hoarse.

“What’s your name?” Josyff asked, taking the bowl from her.

The woman made to answer then grimaced and wrapped her arms about her stomach.

“Relax,” Nyk said. “You’ve probably eaten too much, too fast. Lean back. And let’s get this sleeping bag underneath you properly.”

There was an interval of undignified squirming in the comparatively confined space before he was able to ask, “Is that better?”

The woman nodded, tightening the sleeping bag about her. A shiver shook her. “Yes, much,” she said. “Thank you.” She looked from Nyk and Josyff, her eyes searching and uncertain. “Have you any water?”

“Water, more soup, bread, whatever you want,” Nyk replied.

“Just water, please. I’m still thirsty.”

Nyk warmed the water a little before he handed it to her.

“How did you get here?” Josyff asked as she drank.

The woman lowered her gaze. “I can’t remember,” she said after some hesitation. “I just remember walking and walking, getting colder and colder, then crawling into here.”

“How long have you been here?”

There was a vague shrug underneath the bulky sleeping bag. “I don’t know. I’ve been asleep, I think... I can’t tell... waking... dreaming...

Her face contorted as though she were about to break into tears, but some inner resource took control before either of the two men could offer any consolation.

“You can remember your name?” Nyk taunted gently instead.

His manner provoked a thin smile.

“Esyal Wrenith,” she said.

Nyk introduced himself and Josyff. “We’re from the Keep.” He pointed. “The Boss here’s a surveyor and you can thank your good fortune his equipment’s been lost otherwise I’d probably have been finding you lying long dead here a few months from now.”

Esyal nodded and tightened the sleeping bag about her again, but did not speak.

“Well, you’re safe now,” Josyff said, trying to soften the effects of Nyk’s bleak observation. “Settle down. Have a sleep. There’s nothing to be done now. We’ll talk in the morning. Decide what we should do.”

“Yes,” Esyal said softly. “Thank you. I will.”

As she lay down on her side, her face away from them, she turned partly and said, “I am grateful to you.”

But her mind was turning to darker thoughts and even as she spoke, her hand closed about the handle of the knife in her belt.