#2 The Stranger
During the fall, Kirra had managed to keep a grip on the reins, but was dragged, sliding over the wet and muddy grass, half-way across the meadow before she was able to find her feet and dig in. She grimaced and thought dryly that she should have been Sainted for her three little miracles, because Fate, who could easily have just pulled her along into the next town, stopped obediently when she found her feet and pulled on the reins.
True, her arms now felt like they had just been pulled from their sockets, but the horse had stopped. She stood still and calm as if there was no killer storm pounding her. In fact, if anything, Fate looked a bit bored with the whole undertaking. She even had the nerve to look back at Kirra as if to say, well, what are you doing there, standing in the rain?
Kirra glared at the mare through sodden hair and slapped at her jeans in a vain attempt to brush the mud off. The pouring rain would clean them off soon enough, but most likely they were stained beyond repair, "Come on girl; let's go see what fell out of the sky."
The rain was still coming down in torrents, as Kirra and Fate waded through the mud but the wind and thunder and lightening had all but stopped. Kirra groped her way through the blinding rain and came to the person on the ground. She pushed her hair behind her ear and crouched down for a closer look.
The person on the ground was lying face down and was so big she knew it had to be a man. He lay motionless as Kirra nudged him.
"Hey, can you hear me?"
There was kind of a mumble, she didn't quite catch it. She blinked water out of her eyes and leaned in closer. She thought she heard…no, it couldn't have been. She must've been hearing things and the man hadn't moved and certainly wasn't saying anything now.
Afraid he might drown in the deepening water, Kirra reached out for his shoulder to turn him on his back, her heart nearly stopping when her hand bumped something that should definitely not be in a human shoulder. She lightly ran her fingers up the long, slender object and peered closer, pulling her hand back as if it has been burned when she realized what it was.
She sat back on her heels in astonishment. No way, there is no way.
Pushing again at her wet hair and praying that it may have been a mixture of water and hair in her eyes that made her think that she had seen an arrow, she leaned closer. Nope, it was unmistakably an arrow.
Damn.
As Kirra inspected of the rest of the man's body, she found one more and that was the side he wasn't laying on.
Then it hit her -- arrows!!
She jumped to her feet and spun around in a panic, heart pounding and breathing hard. The heavy rain made it impossible to see much of anything, just grey, low lying shadows here and there.
What if the psycho who did this was still out there?
Often Kirra's father had to chase zealots away. There were those who protested the keeping of so much rich land in one family, there were the tree huggers who thought they would be better off in charge of the flora and fauna of the area, and then there were the hunters. Occasionally, men snuck in to hunt.
What if it was a hunter?
Kirra forced herself to remain calm. Hunters were allowed to come onto the property, with her father's permission, if they signed a written statement that said they would not harm any wildlife but the deer they were culling. In this rain it was conceivable that a hunter might take her or Fate or Finn for really big deer. Why anyone would be hunting in such a storm, she didn't know, but what if this was the reason Finn hadn't come back? Feeling guilty about leaving Finn, Kirra knew she had to get out of there and fast.
At the thought, Kirra felt something heavy lean against her causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. It was Finn asking for forgiveness. She bent and rubbed her hands roughly along his sides and down his legs feeling for any wounds. There was nothing.
The dog, thinking Kirra had forgiven him for not coming to her, began to wriggle in delight, but she didn't have time for his ploys and shoved him aside as she straightened. He looked at her with a sad long face and whined.
"Go to Niara's house, Finn. Let her know we're coming."
When the dog didn't budge, Kirra shoved him and pointed, "Go to Niara's. Niara's." Finn smiled at her and took off, a silver streak blending in at once with the silver sheets of rain that still pounded at them.
Kneeling in the mud again, Kirra took a deep breath and steeled herself then rolled the man onto his back. She was surprised that the torrent falling into his face didn't revive him. He remained still as Kirra pushed a few soaked strands of hair out of his face and his white face all but glowed in the gloom. She was frantic to get him on Fate, but he was a large man whereas she was a small girl and Fate a tall horse. There was no way that she could lift him onto Fate without his help. Kirra knelt over him and patted his cheek.
"Come on," she pleaded, "wake up. You have to if you want to get out of here."
No response, Kirra glanced around her, heart racing in fear and unable to see through the rain and then slapped him lightly.
"Come on." She hissed a little louder.
Not even an eye flutter. Then Kirra, fed up with it all and frightened nearly to tears, belted the man hard across the face. Her palm stung, but it did the trick. He opened his eyes slowly and groaned, mumbling something incoherent as Kirra took his other arm, careful to make sure there was no arrow in it as well. There wasn't.
She pulled at him, "Come on, get up. You have to get onto my horse. I can't lift you."
The man looked at her dully and for a moment she thought he was going to pass out again, but he didn't. She pulled on his arm again, her fear becoming anger. For heaven's sake, I am out in the middle of a thunderstorm, drenched to the bone, and trying to get some freaking guy, with freaking arrows sticking out of his freaking body, onto my freaking horse, so that he won't freaking die and the freaking people who did it to him won't come and kill me too, and he won't freaking help.
Kirra growled in frustration, moved to crouch in front of the man so that he was looking directly at her. She spoke slowly -- and somewhat sarcastically -- motioning the whole while.
"You." (Pointing to the man) "Have to help me." (Two hand motion to herself) "Get you." (Pointing to him once again) "Onto." (Sweeping upwards movements) "My horse." (Pointing to Fate) "So you." (Him again) "Don't die." (Comical -- okay, not so comical -- death face.). She was wet and scared.
Kirra watched as the man's eyes cleared for a moment and he mumbled something like, "Yes." But not in English. Had Kirra not already been so shaken by the evening she would have flopped down beside him right there in the mud and rain and given up. As it was, given the craziness of the storm -- and the fact that some guy was lying in it with arrows sticking out of him, his speaking a dead language that Kirra herself spoke wasn't all that nuts.
It had been found once Lil and Scott had gotten their new daughter home that the unknown language she had been speaking was Latin, well a strain of Latin. It was an ancient strain that contained different words and phrases and with some words that no one had ever heard before and others used in strange ways.
It had started the first time they took her to an all Latin mass. Kirra had excitedly tugged on her new father's sleeve and with a grin gestured to the priest, moving her small hand in a pantomime of the man talking and then pointed to her head and nodded, clearly saying that she understood what he was saying. She had been disappointed to learn after she had tracked the man down, that the mass was the only thing he knew in the language. But her parents had soon found a Latin professor from the college to speak with her and teach her English.
Kirra was brought out of astonishment rather quickly when the man sort of lurched to his feet and stood there swaying. He must have understood her motioning -- she felt slightly guilty for the sarcasm -- but knew she had to hurry and get him onto Fate because if he passed out again, which he looked very likely to do, she wouldn't be able to get him up again.
Placing his arm over her shoulder, Kirra let him lean on her and they struggled to Fate's side. Fate watched them curiously but stayed very still. The man placed both hands on Fate's saddle and stood there for a moment gathering his last reserves of strength. Kirra gave him a little urgent nudge; he turned to her with glazed eyes, took a deep breath and smoothly mounted.
She was not expecting that. It seemed he knew how to ride, though as soon as he was on Fate's back, he folded over her neck, apparently having lost consciousness again. Kirra thought that was probably for the best considering his greater height and the fact that she wouldn't have been able to see around him to guide Fate. She mounted behind him, pushed her dripping hair from her eyes, again, and nudged Fate into an urgent but gentle canter.
They rode for a good fifteen or twenty minutes like that, the man unconscious and Kirra trying to keep him from tumbling to the ground. It was not easy, he was heavy and Kirra could hardly reach around him, and the dratted rain would not stop. It wasn't a cold rain, just an annoying hard-to-see-where-you-are-going rain. Good thing both she and Fate knew the way to Niara's with their eyes closed. Niara would know what to do. She always knew what to do.
The little company reached the little cottage sooner then Kirra thought they should, but she wasn't about to complain about it. The windows were awash with light and beckoned cheerfully to them. Kirra was sure that Niara would have some hot tea waiting and there would be dry clothes.
Heaven. Pure heaven.
Then she stopped herself, it was silly to be thinking of hot tea and dry clothes when there was an injured, possibly dying, man lying over the neck of your horse, bleeding all over the place, and there may be some psycho killer out to get you, but hey, gotta keep positive, right?
Kirra heard a faint barking over the din of falling water. It was Finn and his noise caused her heart to began racing again as she looked up, squinting through the rain. He never barked; he hated the sound of his bark. Kirra sat up straighter in the saddle peering into the waterlogged gloom for Niara. Was something wrong with Niara?
No, the old woman was in the doorway waiting for them, candle in hand. Kirra sagged in relief, it had been such a long, strange day and she was weary. Fate stopped automatically when they got to the porch and Niara placed the candle in the porch and hurried out to meet them.
She was a small, wrinkled old woman with long, white hair, a hunched back, and clear, intelligent eyes. Kirra had known Niara all her life, as had her father. It seemed that she had always been on the family's land, the only person not a member of the family to be there. She paid a small rent every month without fail always on the first of the month, rain or shine. Kirra's father often joked that Niara was more reliable then the mail.
As a young child, fresh from adoption, Niara had been the first person Kirra had ever met. She had come to call the day Scott and Lil returned with their newest member in tow and the child had taken to the old woman with such enthusiasm and the old woman to the child that the new parents could hardly deny her visitation. Thus, a tight friendship had been formed. Niara was like the grandmother Kirra had never known. When Kirra was with Niara her parents never worried, though, if they had known some of the things the old woman was teaching their daughter they might have had a few reservations.
"What have you here, Kirra?" The old woman touched the man's knee, "I was a little worried when Finn came running and you were not with him." Frowning as she peered into the man's face, she muttered, "Is it time already?"
Kirra raised an eyebrow. "He kind of fell out of the sky, Niara. I didn't know where else to take him. My house is too far away. Plus, he's hurt. "
"Hurt?" Niara echoed.
Hurt? Was that all she could think of to say?
Kirra narrowed her eyes, thinking that Niara didn't truly grasp the magnitude of the situation. "Yeah, he's got about three arrows in him -- arrows, Niara." She paused to let it sink in. She didn't even believe it and she had been the one to find them. "I'll leave him with you and ride to my house and call the police and ambulance." She looked around uneasily, "The people who did this could still be out there."
"Dear," Niara's cultured voice was completely unruffled, "the police will not be able to find who did this to him. I don't even think that you will have electricity. The storm took care of that. Let's just get him down and see what we can do to help." Niara had no phone and hardly ever used the electricity she did have.
Kirra frowned and reluctantly slid off of Fate, "He's a big guy, Niara, and I can't lift him by myself. I had to slap him pretty hard to wake up just to get him up there."
"Slap him?"
Kirra opened her mouth to argue, but Niara waved her off, "Never mind, dear. Let's just get him down and inside. I may be getting old, but we'll manage. Go 'round to the other side and push him off."
"He'll flatten you, Niara."
"Kirra," the woman's voice was sharp, "get over there and push him. I will be fine until you get 'round again."
"Fine." Kirra growled in irritation. "Finn help her." She pulled at the dog's collar until he was leaning against the old woman, supporting her.
Niara smiled as she heard Kirra grumble something about the 'stubborn granma', then focused her attention on the task at hand, he was a big man, bigger then she had thought he would be. He had been a rather smallish baby.
"Ready?" Kirra's voice was hard to hear over the sound of the rain.
"Yes dear, just be gentle. We don't want to disturb those arrows any more then we have to."
Good luck. Kirra thought then called, "Ready? One, two, three."
Niara heard Kirra grunt slightly with effort and the man rolled onto her, causing her to stagger, he was heavy. Good thing Finn was there behind her. For a moment Niara thought she really was going to be flattened and she swallowed the urge to giggle like an undignified girl. That would certainly be the way to go.
Kirra was around in a second, taking the man under his arms. Niara let her drag him into the living room and heave him onto the couch. Then she stood breathing hard from her exertions and looking at Niara, plainly asking what to do, without saying a word.
"Dear, go and fetch the gauze bandages, needles and thread, and the herbal packets that you and I have been assembling. The ones of yarrow," -- Kirra raised her eyebrows at the proposed use of such a powerful herb – "comfrey, and grab some garlic. I'll get the wash water and cloths." Kirra turned without another word and left the room, leaving a trail of water.
As Niara went to the kitchen to gather her cloths and water, questions whirled through her mind. Had so much time passed already? She had not been told when exactly it would start. It was certainly a surprise that the man had entered their lives in this way; one that Niara had not been informed of.
Well, they would find out tonight. Tonight was the great testing field and this time it was a human life and not an animal's that hung in the balance. Was Kirra ready for the responsibility that would soon be hers? Could she actually do what needed to be done?
She wondered how Kirra would take the news. It would show her strength of spirit if she accepted it. Keeping the truth from Kirra for so long had worried Niara, but she had been restrained and unable to tell the girl of her past. It had not been the right time. Now, suddenly it was the right time and frankly, Niara dreaded it. Well, she thought, we will have to deal with that later. Right now they both needed clear heads and calm hands.
Kirra was waiting in by the couch when Niara returned. She had neatly laid out the required items on a small low table and even stirred up the small fire in the fire place, as Niara had not time before the storm hit. She had even placed a bunch of dried lavender on it. The light, acrid smell calmed the two women and maybe the wounded man also.
"Kirra dear, you are dripping on the rug."
Kirra looked down at the wet rug in confusion. She had forgotten that she was wet. Once the realization hit her, she shivered.
"Why don't you go and take care of Finn and Fate and change into some dry clothing while I start the dill and marigold steeping and prepare the garlic paste. I'll not begin without you, but be quick."
Kirra nodded once and left the room.
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Outside, Kirra whistled for Fate, who was standing under an old oak tree trying to get out of the worst of the rain. It was still coming down heavily. Kirra squinted at the cloud darkened sky and wished it would stop so the moon could come out.
She had always loved the moon and its guiding phases. The moon was the guardian of women and there was a real power in it that she could never fail to feel. It was power she knew they would need tonight. Niara had taught her that and Kirra believed her, she had always felt her calmest during a full moon. Others said that it is a time for bogeymen to come out, but it was an idea Kirra scoffed. Only good things happened in the silver light of the moon.
She was distracted as she led the patient mare into the small shed that doubled as a stable when Kirra was visiting. Finn had already made himself at home and was sprawled on a large pile of straw. He didn't lift his head as Kirra entered, but his tail thumped against the straw a few times. Apparently the race over had tuckered him out.
Kirra scratched the dog behind the ears before ignoring him to care for Fate. The statement Niara had made when she first saw the man was niggling at her mind. She felt there were things the old woman wasn't telling her and couldn't fathom why she was so against going for a real doctor. Kirra had great faith in Niara's abilities -- and to a lesser extent-in her own, but this was a man not some hurt animal.
"What do you think, girl?" Kirra asked the horse as she rubbed her dry with the old towels left for just such a purpose and clipped a blanket in place. "I have no reason not to trust Niara, but this is just so weird."
The mare's only reply was to begin enthusiastically on the oats Kirra had thrown into her feed bin.
"I suppose you are right," The girl said with a laugh. "It is not worth the worry. Niara knows what she is doing. Thanks for the talk." Kirra gave Fate one final pat and left her to her much deserved dinner. Finn snored softly in his corner.
Outside the rain had not slackened and Kirra trudged through the swamped yard to the house. She couldn't get any wetter so it didn't matter if she ran or not. Inside was warm and something unreadable hung heavy in the air. Kirra could feel it.
It reminded her of the electrical feeling that caused her hair to stand on end, the kind that happened right before a storm, something that could be felt in the air but not seen in the still cloudless sky. Something was going to happen tonight, something big.
Kirra removed her shoes at the door and walked, squelching slightly in her wet socks and wishing when she spotted the mess she had made that she had remembered to remove her shoes earlier, through the living room. Niara was bustling about gathering blankets and setting towels out. The man was the same, unconscious and silent.
Entering the room that was hers, Kirra saw that Niara had put a towel on the bed for her. She opened a drawer and took out some of the clothing she kept her for just such purpose. She peeled her wet clothes off and left them in a heap on the chair to be dealt with later. Slowly she toweled off and pulled on her sweatshirt and jeans.
It felt so good to be in dry clothes after being so wet. The cotton was warm and soft and Kirra had the sudden urge to lie down and take a nap, the excitement of the day catching up with her and the adrenaline was receding. She rubbed her face extra hard with the towel in hopes of reviving herself and turned to deal with her hair.
She paused in front of the mirror and frowned. Her heavy, dark hair was made heavier still by the soaking it had received from the rain. It hung wet and dripping down her back and was quickly soaking her dry sweatshirt.
Normally, she felt it was her best feature and it was beautiful when it was dry, but there were tons of it and it always seemed to be in her eyes. To her utter consternation, almost any way she wore it tendrils would escape and obscure her vision. But it was lessened when she kept it long rather then short and she had gotten into the habit of buying tiny plastic clips and twisting bits of it here and braiding bits of it there and fastening the whole woven mess with them. It wasn't bad looking, in fact, Kirra actually liked it. It seemed to fit her.
But tonight, she wanted it out of the way completely, so she toweled it as dry as best she could and twisted it into a thick bun, securing it with a couple of pencils. With one last glance in the mirror and content that her hair would, at least for the time being, stay out of the way, Kirra left the room, feeling almost confident that she was ready for what the night would bring.