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Characters Featured: Reqem, Oromaal, Kalitelm, Firl, The track had disappeared under a raging river of spring melt. Higher up the mountain, maybe a boulder had slipped and diverted a stream bed, or maybe it was just that a warmer than normal early spring day, was melting a snow bank too fast. Whatever the cause the result was roaring water with four children on the wrong side of the water and one child trapped on an island in the rising water.
Kalitelm was not the youngest, but she was the smallest. With her abnormally short legs and reliance on a cane, she had not been able to run out of the path of the torrent.
On the Itadesh side of the water, the rest of the children were screaming for help or weeping as Oromaal came, angry-faced, around the turn. After one stunned glance, she raised her voice in a high ululating yell that seemed to echo off the sky.
Firl and Reqem came running.
Firl put his arm around Oromaal's shoulder, his face was white.
Reqem grabbed the two biggest children by the shoulder.
“You run and fetch every bit of rope you can get hold of or I'll give you something to cry over!”
They froze like frightened silk-hares.
“Go do as he tells you,” Oromaal said, as reassuringly as she could. “It will be all right, just do exactly what Reqem tells you.” The children ran towards the village.
“What do...” Firl started, but Oromaal touched his shoulder to silence him.
Reqem was staring into space, but Oromaal recognised that blank look. Reqem laid his hand on the nearest tree trunk, his eyes tracking across the water, calculating and measuring.
Most of the children huddled close to Oromaal, silent now, tears streaking their faces. Tobern had edged as close to the water as was safe, holding securely to a tree limb, and was calling encouragement to Kalitelm, trying to persuade her to pull herself higher up on her little island. Above the noise of water it was doubtful that she heard him.
Reqem hadn't been carrying his axe, but he had found a forked branch and after notching it with his knife, he ripped it off the tree with brute strength, leaving a long splintered rip in the tree. A bit of trimming and hacking with his knife and Reqem had a sturdy “A” shaped piece of wood as high as his shoulder.
People were running from the village with armfuls of rope.
Tobern, shouting himself hoarse across the water to Kalitelm, suddenly found himself lifted by his shoulders and turned to face Reqem. Tobern fought and pulled away. Reqem slapped him and Tobern focused furious eyes on Reqem's face.
“I thought so.” Reqem said, “You're the sprog the raisers keep telling me is stuck on the roof, or halfway up a tent pole, or in a tree, and when I get there, lookee what? No Tobern.”
“This isn't the best time to...” Firl started saying.
“You want to save them?” Reqem was shouting at the squirming Tobern, “Then by the knife cut edge, do what I tell you.”
Tobern stiffened, but gave a white-faced nod.
“I can't cross that,” Reqem said, “but you can, you're not as heavy as me.” He gestured up at the tangle of thin narrow branches that overhung what had once been a steep path and was now a raging torrent.
“You can't ask him that,” Firl protested. “He could be killed.”
“Yes, he could, but how long do you think that crippled brat is going to last, cold and wet? How long can we leave those kids over there with no shelter and no one to look after them? This could run for days. And what blithering great ideas do you have?”
“I can do it,” said Tobern.
Firl opened his mouth to argue, but Reqem had already tied two rope ends around Tobern's waist, and was boosting Tobern up into the nearest tree. Once Tobern was up in the tree, Reqem dumped the two coils of rope at Firl's feet. Reqem put a rope each in Firl and Oromaal's hands. “Keep feeding the rope out,” Reqem said. “Don't let it pull tight.” Reqem looked at Firl. “Don't let go of the end.”
Firl and Oromaal anxiously watched Tobern climb, easing the rope out as he went up.
Tobern scrambled easily up the tree, higher and higher. Surely higher than he needed to go to start crossing? Oromaal bit her lip as Tobern reached for another branch, only this time Tobern used the branch to pull himself into standing fully on the branch below, changing grips carefully as he turned outwards. Tobern started walking forward, foot before foot. Not the best move; Tobern's foot skidded on a patch of moss and he sat down sharply on the branch, his arms curling into the tangle of small branches around him to steady himself and stop him falling.
A frozen moment of branch swaying. Firl and Oromaal flinched as Tobern's boots came tumbling and bouncing through the branches. One or two of the children grinned, Tobern was always getting yelled at for losing his boots and shoes or leaving them on a roof somewhere. The adults watched more anxiously as Tobern hitched his feet back under himself and reached again for the higher branch. Walking securely barefoot on the lower branch and steadying himself hand over hand on the higher branch, Tobern edged out over the flood.
Reqem was not watching. Firl and Oromaal had hardly noticed when Reqem had tugged the scarves from round their necks. The children, not knowing what Reqem was doing but recognising that it had purpose, had handed over their scarves without asking. More people were hurrying round the short path from Itadesh. As they arrived, Reqem tied more and more scarves to the forked length of wood that he carried.
Some people were hiding their eyes. The higher branch that Tobern had been steadying himself with had curved out of reach. The branch Tobern was standing on was more slender towards the end. It was sagging and swaying under Tobern's feet as he edged out further, grabbing onto bunches of twigs with his hands. The trailing ends of rope kept snagging on branches, Tobern had to stop to lift and swing them free, bouncing the branch under his feet.
He was running out of branch, but Torbern was getting close to where the tree opposite reached in from the other side of the water. There it was: a broad curving branch, just two handwidths away. Tobern stretched. The branch of the other tree was just beyond reach, and the branch Tobern was standing on bounced and swayed with the movement. Tobern stopped and made sure he had plenty of slack in the ropes that trailed behind him. Stretching up cautiously, Tobern caught the end of a twig in his fingertips. Tugging gently down, finger width by finger width Tobern used the twig to pull a bundle of thin whippy branches to where he could grasp a bunch of them in his fists. Flexing his knees, Tobern started bouncing in time to the sway of the branch, with each bounce working the grip of his hands higher along the bundle of branches in his fists. With once last bounce, Tobern pulled and swung and threw himself across to the far branch.
Twigs and branches whipped into Tobern's face. He could taste blood and sap, and his legs were hanging down swinging in the air, but he had one arm hooked round the broad branch he had been reaching for. Tobern turned his head and let the twigs that had struck him spring out of his way. The water roared beneath him. Tobern closed his eyes and tightened his arms on the branch. Tobern's shoulders were hurting, but a pull and a wriggle and his legs were round the branch as well. This time Tobern didn't even try to stand on the branch, he just shuffled himself along to the main trunk until he could climb and slither down the blessedly solid tree and reach the ground.
Reqem took off his coat, and wound more rope round his waist.
“He made it across,” Firl said thankfully as they saw Tobern being hugged by his friends.
“That's what he was supposed to do.” said Reqem as he took the rope from Firl's hands and tied it securely to a strong tree. Then he tied the rope Oromaal had been holding above it. Hopefully the children would be able to walk along the bottom rope while holding onto the other rope at shoulder height.
Tobern's rope tying was much slower, but as soon as Reqem saw that Tobern had tied the lower rope he waded into the current without waiting. Holding the rope to stop himself being swept away, and carrying aloft the forked length of wood swathed in scarves, Reqem fought his way through the water. Reaching the island where Kalitelm was, he found her white-faced and sleepy with cold. Briskly Reqem used the soft scarves to bandage Kalitelm tightly to the forked branch he had carried with him.
Meanwhile Tobern and the other children had secured the higher rope. Tretha, one of the younger rangers, slim and lithe, walked carefully across the sagging swinging rope “bridge” to them. At some points she nearly swung horizontal, but a tug and scramble and Tretha was on the far side of the water and hauling the ropes tighter and retying the knots.
Reqem tied over the scarves with rope, making sure Kalitelm was secure. He bound Kalitelm's feet towards the open ends of the forked branch and placed the fork a hand's breadth above her head so that there was room to pass rope through to make a hitch knot to carry the weight of the stretcher. As soon as Reqem saw that both ropes were fixed securely, he hung Kalitelm on her stretcher from the top rope, securing the loop so that it would slide along as he lifted her, but tighten and grip the rope to hold her safe if he slipped.
Balancing on the lower rope and sliding Kalitelm along the higher rope Reqem edged back across the raging water. Oromaal was waiting to lay a worried hand against Kalitelm's cold face. Reqem unhitched the stretcher from the rope. “Healer,” he grunted as he swung Kalitelm and her stretcher up into his arms. Without another word, Reqem strode towards the village.
Oromaal hesitated, but Reqem would take Kalitelm straight to the healer, and several of her other charges were still in danger.
Once Reqem was clear of the rope, Tretha started bringing the other children across one at a time. Brethan worked her way over, hand over hand on the top rope. Neat sensible steps, resolutely not looking at the water that frothed and roared all too close to her feet. She froze at the last few steps, not sure how to get off the rope. Tretha steadied Brethan until Firl could lift Brethan by the waist and swing her down to Oromaal. Oromaal checked Brethan over, but the girl had not gotten wet; she was shaky but not chilled.
Tretha had more trouble bringing Duthan and Mavoi across: They were bold and competitive and feeling a little put out that Tobern had been able to climb across to them; they went too fast. Tretha had to catch Duthan back from a slip twice, and Mavoi started out too soon instead of waiting for Tretha to come all the way back, so Tretha had to walk backwards watching him. Duthan and Mavoi arrived on the Itadesh side of the water bouncy and over-excited and Oromaal sternly made them stand still.
Babeq, the youngest, did not want to step onto the rope.
“Look you do it like this,” Tobern said, and walked a few steps out on the rope and back. Babeq hid his face in his hands.
“Come on,” said Tretha, “let's get back home and have some soup, hey?”
Babeq nodded dubiously. “Tobern, go with me?”
Tobern looked at Tretha, she nodded slightly.
Tobern led Babeq to the ropes, Tobern stepped onto the lower rope first and Tretha lifted Babeq into place. Babeq leaned back but Tobern showed him how to hold the top rope. Step by step they shuffled across. Tobern leading, coaxing Babeq to move handhold by handhold. Tretha behind, gripping the back of Babeq's tunic to make him feel safer. Babeq was very slow, and by the time they reached safety he was crying as much from the tiredness in his arms as from being scared.
When Firl lifted Babeq down, Babeq ran straight to Oromaal and she swept him up into her arms.
Oromaal intended to make the children explain exactly why they had snuck out of the village without an adult, but first...
Itadesh and hot soup awaited.
...
A few months later, Reqem sought out Tobern at summer camp.
“If a man is going to be a climber he needs the best rope,” Reqem said, dropping a couple of heavy coils of rope next to where Tobern sat on the grassy bank. “A fine woman from Itrelir makes that, you won't find better rope anywhere.” Reqem grinned. “I might go and keep her company for a while. Oromaal and Firl think I was hard on you, they keep nagging me about it.”
Tobern smiled ruefully, “Not half as much as they've nagged us all about sneaking out of the village without an adult.”
Tobern picked up the rope and ran it through his hands. It was indeed beautifully made, the plaiting strong and even. “Thank you,” he said.
“You did well,” Reqem said awkwardly. “I knew you could do it, we've been fishing you off roofs and out of trees since you could walk, but you did a good job.”
Tobern shrugged. “I had to,” he said.
“I'll see you summer at gathers then,” Reqem said. “Let me know any time you need some more rope.”
By the time Reqem was halfway towards the nearest camp fire, Tobern was heading for the trees. View/Add/Edit CommentsAuthor's NotesInspired by Elisabeth Barrette's prompt of "a Northerner who loves to climb." See also:
Snow-unicorn Riders
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