Into the Wild
Chapter 4
The negotiations were going well. Lillian held her own against the barrage of Oramine suggestions. Sirisa took an active part, though she seemed to be making things more difficult.
"This Lillian Carister person has a strong will," Ruch said queitly to Halt. "I was a little surprised- she seems quite timid."
"She does," Halt agreed. "She's doing a good job."
"I'm glad," Ruch said after a long pause. "I didn't think things would go this smoothly."
Halt glanced sidealong at him. "Whys that?"
Ruch heaved a sigh. "Oramin is split in two minds these days. Half the population is ready to expand their knowledge of the world, to jump from the nest, if you like."
"And the other half isn't so keen?" Halt guessed.
"Yes," Ruch said heavily. "Many Oramine are afraid of losing their precious culture. They are afraid of change and of the larger world. These people do not want this treaty."
Halt frowned thoughtfully.
"So which category do you fall under?" Will asked, approaching from behind them.
Ruch smiled at him. "Well, I am happy to have a treaty with such esteemed people as youselves."
The meeting broke up for lunch. Food was served and the Araluens tucked in. This time, the Oramine ate too. Then, Sirisa came over to them.
"Would you like to see some more of Oramin?" she asked and they all agreed eagerly.
She showed them the village and led them a small way into the surrounding forestry. All the while, she spoke about the Oramine, their celebrations, enemies and the fearful place known as the wild.
"No one ever ventures into the wild," she said. "Now that Lord Daan is our leader, he sends criminals to the wild to die. No one ever hears from them again."
"Hasn't anyone ever found their way back?" Will asked.
Sirisa shook her head. "Never," she said grimly. "The wild is separated from here by a wide, dangerous river. It's impossible to cross."
Will raised his eyebrows. "Lovely," he said.
She told them how Oramin had been unorganised and irrational (much like Gallica, Halt said to his companions) until Lord Daan ralied some supporters and took control of the country.
She showed them through a long hall, the only room on the forest floor. Paintings hung on the walls, splashes of green and pink and orange to brighten up the unfurnished rooms. Down the end of the hall, one golden framed painting hung. Five faces were painted in detail, four men, one woman. Intricate patterns of leaves and waves and flowers were woven around the faces.
"The five lords," Sirisa said in a hushed voice.
"Who were they?" Will asked. He kept his voice down, following her example. It seemed the right thing to do surrounded by all the painted eyes watching them.
"Lord Sakim, the lord of strength. Lord Deshui of wisdom. Lord Kamiki of nature. Lord Denisia of beauty and charm. Lord Huk of speech," Sirisa pointed to each face as she spoke. "Each ancient lord ruled in a different way. After they died, they went to serve the great god, Furisath, as we say."
Lillian was intrigued. "I studied Oramine customs, but I never heard of any of this."
Sirisa shrugged. "We don't like to advertise it." She reached up and gently took the painting down.
"Every Oramine gets to have their turn to house the painted lords. Because you are our honoured guests, you will be allowed to have the painting in your homestay." She explained. "Here."
Will took the painting from her. The frame was not real gold, he saw at once. It was painted wood and not very heavy. He could make out each individual oily brushstroke. It was painted with great skill. The painting weighed much less than he had expected for the thick canvas. He wondered breifly why the artist didn't paint on something thinner, then reasoned that they might not have had anything less thick in older times.
"Who painted it?" he asked, tracing the strokes with his finger.
"Our great ancestor." Sirisa shifted impatiently on her feet. Her eyes were darting from side to side and Will felt a slight misgiving. He pushed the doubt aside and focused on what she was saying. "He painted it to honour the greatest five kings of history. But then the Arasi, curse them, stole the painting and we had to fight them to get it back."
"Arasi?" Halt fingered his beard. "They're from the neighbouring country, aren't they?" He said it in a tone that indicated he already knew and was just making sure.
"That's right," Sirisa told him. She was walked to the door and beckoning to them. "They are our natural born enemies. Now come on, let's go."
She seemed very rushed, Will thought. He was about to say something when the door swung open. Sirisa leapt backwards in fright. It was Ruch.
"Sirisa.." he said, shaking his head slowly. "You didn't."
Sirisa tried to push past him, but he seized her wrists. Sensing the tense atmosphere, Will suddenly felt self conscious at holding the painting. Even more so when Ruch looked at him with open horror.
"Put it back," he said. "Quickly, before anyone sees."
Will heard the clumking sound of metal boots on a wooden floor. Three of them, he counted, all heavy men. Guards probably. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on. Halt gave him a nod so he took the painting back to it's stand and reached up to hang it on the wall.
He was standing with his arms above his head, in an open, vulnerable position, the painting still in his hands, when the guards reached them.
"Ruch!" one of them said in a warm greeting. Then, he let out a gasp. Will quickly hung the painting up and spun to face the guards, who were running at him. He leapt to the side.
One of them, the youngest one, turned and raced away to get help. The two facing Will drew their swords. He drew his two knives. They moved at the same time, lunging for him. He ducked and slipped forward, driving his saxe up under the chestplate of one man. The other fell to the ground, a ringing sound echoing in the air from where Halt had hit his helmet with the hilt of his saxe.
"Quickly, we must get away," Ruch urged them. He had his own sword drawn and lead the way. But when they emerged from the building, they found themselves surrounded by guards.
"Wait, you've got it all wrong!" Sirisa cried, hurrying forward. "I- mmph!"
A guard grabbed her and covered her mouth with his hand. He held his sword to her throat.
"Surrender or she dies!"
Will paused and glanced at his former mentor. Halt was watching the guard with narrowed eyes. That usually didn't bode well for an enemy. But Halt let out a breath and shrugged at Will.
"We'd never make it to the port, anyway," he said.
Will realised it was true. Their way was blocked by dozens of guards and if they fought their way past, which wasn't certain, they still had a way to go in a foreign country. Anyway, he couldn't just leave Sirisa to die in cold blood.
He dropped his knives on the ground. Ruch and Halt were disarming themselves as well. The Rangers unstrung their bows on orders and watched forlornly as an armed soldier took their weapons away. Without the comforting weight of the bow on his shoulder, Will felt the presence of the soldiers more strongly.
Their hands were bound in front of them. Their feet were bound too.
Will glanced around. How were they to walk with their feet bound? Ruch leaned towards him, seeing the question in his eyes.
"It is customery in Oramine for prisoners to be-"
A feirce pain over his ear and everything went black.
…...
A groan sounded in the hazy darkness. It took him a minute to work out that the noise was coming from his lips and that the thobbing was his head. He felt a gentle hand brushing over the feiry pain. Soft, cool fingers. He groaned again.
"They hit him hard," a deep voice said. A familiar voice, but he couldn't think of names at the moment.
"It was unecessary," A second voice said angrily "The guard was new and inexperianced, I saw."
"Will he be alright?" This voice was soft and feminine.
"He'll be fine," the first voice reassured her. It was a very reassuring voice. Comfort and security. A voice that meant he was safe. Safe throughout the five years of his apprenticeship. Halt.
And, in a rush, it all came back to him. Will sat up, gritting his teeth as his head throbbed in protest. The world blurred around him, but he held strong and was rewarded with a lessening of pain. He squinted around the prison room. It was wooden, like all Oramine buildings. There was no furniture, just ropes that bound them all to the wall. Outside, he could hear the guards prowling.
Halt was sitting beside him, an ugly bruise swelling the left half of his face. He gripped Will's forearm when he began to sway.
"M'okay," Will said with a weak grin. He touched his forehead and felt blood.
"Ranger Will?" Lillian asked. Her face was pale and taunt with worry.
He tried to put more heart into his grin. "I'm alright, really. Don't worry about me."
She flushed, looking away. "I wasn't worried," she muttered.
Will mocked hurt, but inside he was smiling. Lillian was a kind girl, he thought. Even though she didn't like coffee.
Sitting nearby, Ruch bowed his head. "I am very sorry," he said gravely. "Oramine can be so... predictable sometimes."
"Ruch," Halt said, leaning forward to catch the other mans eye. "I think it's time you told us exactly what's been going on."
Ruch sighed. "Yes, I fear you are right, Ranger Halt." He shifted on the hard floor to get more comfortable. "Perhaps the best place to start is that Oramin is divided in half. Half of us want a treaty and half of us want to remain on our own."
"You said that," Halt pointed out. Ruch dipped his head in acknoledgement.
"It has to be said that Oramin has had a few bad treaties in our history," he continued. "This was before the current Lord took over. Our allies gave away our secrets to Aras-the neighbouring country whom we are mortal enemies with. It was a bloody slaughter."
He closed his eyes. "I was a young toddler at the time. It was confusing and hazy. I don't remember much, just screaming and fire and blood. And that my parents were killed. Though I didn't understand death at the time."
"Oramine has always had their suspicions about foreigners but after that, I'm told it was noticible that their fear increased. No foreigner has been in Oramin since-until now. Such fears have been passed down from generation to generation, horror stories told. Everyone has been suppressing that fear and now it has slipped out of hand."
"Even if you were betrayed once, it doesn't mean all foreigners are bad," Lillian said in the following silence.
Sirisa, sitting against the wall with her knees drawn to her chin, let out a loud, disbelieving snort. Ruch looked at her sharply.
"You wanted to say something?" he asked. There was a note of steel in his scratchy voice.
"Foreigners are evil," Sirisa said in a low voice. "They are all traitors."
"Maybe, maybe not," Ruch said coldly. "But the only traitor I see here now is you, Sirisa. How could you do it?"
Then, when he remembered that the Araluens were still in the dark, he addressed them. "That painting, the Five Lords, is sacred to Oramin. For a foreigner to lay hands on it is unthinkable to most people. The penalty is death."
"H-how will they kill us?" Lillian asked in a small, frightened voice.
"They will send us into the wild," Ruch said. "No one escapes alive."
"They might not!" Sirisa said desperately. Even though he knew she had betrayed them, Will found it hard not to feel sorry for her. She was in the same boat as them now. In framing them, she had committed an unforgivable crime herself.
"They will," A flat, hopeless voice said.
Will started. With his pounding head and whirlwind of thoughts, he hadn't noticed that there was another person in the room.
"You're sure?" Halt asked. He didn't look surprised, but then, he never did. It was impossible to tell if he had noticed the other person.
"Yes," It was a man and he rolled over now. He had been wrapped in a brown, woollen cloak that blended into the dull light of the prison. His face was thin and bony, his cheek bones prominent and covered with a scruffy beard.
"Antil?" Ruch peered at the man and shook his head sadly.
"Hello, Ruch. Sirisa," Antil said in that flat, lifeless voice. Then he answered Halt's question. "I can be sure because I was formally sentenced to the Wild and so I know this is where they keep the lowest of the prisoners."
"He's right," Ruch said. "They always sort the prisoners into seperate buildings, depending on the sentence."
"We're dead," Sirisa said. She buried her face in her arms. "We're doomed. It's over." Her breath hitched in a sob.
"It's that bad?" Will asked quietly.
Sirisa sobbed louder. Antil stared at the wall, his face completely devoid of expression. Ruch gave them a sad look.
"The Wild is the place of horror stories. There is no going home. You live there for the rest of your days and then you die." he said. "It's a horrible punishment."
Halt met his eyes. "So that's it?" he asked. "We die?"
Ruch shrugged. "There is not much else to do."
Will narrowed his eyes. Alyss's face sprang to mind again. Her hair framing her delicate face. Her grey eyes shining with laughter. The scent of her perfume was vivid in his mind. The softness of her was such a well remembered touch that he felt as if she were right here with him. His hand strayed to the ring in his pocket. He couldn't die without asking her.
"I can think of something else to do," Will said and when the others looked at him, he gave them a meaningful nod. "We live."
Sorry, really bad chapter. XD
Please review anyway?