The Keep

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 20Eyes widening, both Josyff and Esyal sat up quickly; he in surprise and concern, she in response to his sudden movement. She reached automatically for her knife, but disguised the gesture as an adjustment of her clothes as soon as she realized what she was doing. There was no danger from Josyff, she knew.

“Are you all right?” Josyff asked, leaning forward.

Esyal feigned confusion.

“Yes,” she replied. “I think so. Where am I? We were... out in the mountains... in the snow...”

“This place is called the Keep,” Josyff said. “Still in the mountains and the snow, I’m afraid, but warm and safe... and well stocked...”

“The Keep. I remember. The man with you... Nyk... he mentioned it. You’re Josyff, the surveyor, aren’t you?” She did not wait for an answer. “How did I get here?”

“What do you remember?”

“I remember the cave... and you and Nyk finding me... and some other people...”

“Nothing else? No idea where you’re from or how you came to be in the mountains... anything?”

Esyal shook her head.

“You... fainted,” Josyff said with an uncertain shrug. He moved his chair closer and looked at her intently. “Or something. You wanted to go after the men from the village but couldn’t. You were very upset. You walked with us for quite a while then you just collapsed. Are you sure you’re all right?”

Esyal ignored the question. “So you carried me here?”

“No. It was Adroyan. I don’t know what would have happened had it just been me and Nyk. He must be remarkably strong.” For some reason he found this overt admission disturbed him.

Esyal was silent for a moment. She knew that Adroyan was strong as she had woken as they were climbing the final slope up to the Keep. Then it had been not so much her instinct for self-protection that kept her silent and listening, as a feeling of security and comfort such as she had not felt since she was a child. It puzzled her now that she had felt no alarm or confusion at finding herself where she was. It puzzled her too that she awoke as from a long and refreshing sleep. And with a faint echoing of distant voices surrounding her.

Although the sureness of Adroyan’s cradling arms had not faltered, the security she felt was soon replaced by the habits that opposing the New Order had developed and hardened. And, she recalled, from his behaviour at their meeting, this person carrying her was New Order, without doubt. The thought chilled her and further prompted her to silence and stillness. What was he doing out here? Was he one of those who had attacked her group?

There would be no answers to these questions, she knew. All she could do was wait and listen. In the meantime, let him work, she had concluded. Better him exhausted than her.

Now, sitting opposite Josyff, she had no doubt that this decision had been correct and that she must maintain the charade of her forgotten memory. Against all expectation she was safe — she had survived. All reason dictated that she should have died, alone and wandering the mountains, but chance had not only rescued her, it had placed her in close proximity to one of her enemy. Briefly she wondered if some deep unknowable force were at work — something that others might call destiny, perhaps? But she was, above all, pragmatic. Such a question could not be answered and to pursue it needlessly was to risk losing the opportunity that had been presented. Deal with what is, she reminded herself. The work of the Rhanen was not yet finished. Here she could learn and, as appropriate, scheme. And to that end it was important that she gain the confidence of Josyff and the others. She had heard enough already to know that they were just ordinary people, effectively pressed into the service of the New Order and that Adroyan was an outsider to the group. That should prove useful.

Yet something was unsettling her.

“I’m trying to remember what happened when I... fainted,” she said, to break an awkward silence. “But I...”

Her voice faded.

Her fainting puzzled her as much as her unflustered awakening. She did not faint! She had never fainted. She was strong and determined — she supported others — she was good at that. What had happened?

Nyk had been setting a stern pace, but not one that she could not accommodate despite being tired from the previous days’ wandering. She hadn’t been hungry. Her clothes were adequate for the conditions; she was not cold or wet. Granted she had been angry and frustrated by her inability to return to the village and, if she were honest, fearful about what lay ahead. Yet...

Then from nowhere came the thought that she had been taken away. Taken away and then returned.

It floated into her mind through the quiet hiss of Henk’s fire.

She managed not to react outwardly to it. It made no sense, yet it shocked her. Shocked her because it felt not like a random thought, one of many to be sifted and considered on the way to a solution, but a categorical statement: this is what happened.

Despite her restraint, Josyff sensed some change in her and voiced his main concern as discreetly as he could. “You’ve no... headache... or anything?” he asked.

“No. I feel fine.”

“We thought perhaps you’d fallen — banged your head — just passing out like that. We were very worried.”

Esyal was shaking her head even as she ran testing hands through her hair.

“No, I feel fine,” she repeated. “No headaches, no bumps and bruises that I can feel — nothing. Maybe I was just more tired than I thought.”

Silence descended between them again. Josyff was relieved that Esyal had awoken, both for her sake and for his own, because he was not going to be an impotent witness to some tragedy. Esyal too was relieved to have one less pretence to maintain. All she had to do now was remember that she had no memory and that she must find out what was happening here. It was obviously something important and thus potentially useful.

Already ideas were forming. If they were all trapped in this place then a degree of community would inevitably develop between them and, New Order or not, Adroyan would be a part of it.

“What is this place?” she asked.

“Other than that it’s the Keep, I’m little wiser than you are,” Josyff replied unhelpfully. “I’d never heard of it before I was sent here.”

“Yes, you told me. You’re here to survey it or something, aren’t you?”

She stretched luxuriously and looked around. “Well, whatever it is, I’m glad it’s here,” she said. Then she looked straight at Josyff. “And that you and Nyk found me.” She shuddered involuntarily as she was momentarily alone and desperate, huddled in the chill of the cave.

Josyff leaned forward anxiously.

“I’m fine,” Esyal said, with as reassuring a smile as she could manage. “Just remembering how I nearly died.”

“You were very lucky.”

“Yes I was — very.” She looked squarely at Josyff. “Have I thanked you and Nyk?”

Josyff smiled. “You might have. I’m not sure. It’s been a long day. But it’s of no consequence. We could hardly have left you. It’s really Adroyan you need to thank. He’s the one who carried you.”

“Yes. I will... in the morning,” Esyal said flatly, briefly guilty at her judgement of Adroyan. Whatever he was, he had carried her.

Still, he was New Order.

“Do you remember anything?” Josyff asked.

“No. Only wandering in the snow.”

“And your name.”

“And my name.”

She stammered and waved her arms vaguely. “I don’t understand any of this.”

Josyff decided not to press the matter. He became avuncular. “Well, now you’re safe. And once you’re properly rested and fed, I’m sure your memory will start coming back.”

Esyal was anxious that her “condition” not be subjected to too much scrutiny. She became casual.

“Oddly enough, it doesn’t seem to be bothering me,” she said.

“I noticed,” Josyff replied. Abruptly, he yawned.

“I’m sorry,” he said ruefully.

“I’m keeping you awake,” Esyal said, with genuine regret. “I am all right now, truly. Go back to sleep, I won’t disturb you any more.”

Josyff settled back into the chair and pulled the blanket over himself. “I have to admit, I feel much easier now that you’re awake,” he said. “And I will have to get started on this job properly tomorrow — we’ve lost a lot of time.” His eyes were closing as he added a final injunction. “If you feel unwell, you must wake me... straight away.”

“I will.”

As he finally drifted into sleep, Josyff felt a brief spasm of alarm. What strangeness would the Keep visit on him tonight? The thought seemed to stretch on forever, like a rope trying to draw him back to wakefulness and flight, but it could not sustain itself against the demands of his body now that his mind was free of immediate concern for Esyal.

She, on the other hand, was wide awake, though she chose to continue lying motionless on the couch — nothing was to be gained by wandering about in the middle of the night. She was going to be here for a few days at least. There would be plenty of time to discover what was happening.

She frowned. She was now so awake that her mind was racing to and fro, searching for something to cling to, to find its bearings, to rest a moment while it quietly weighed and considered everything that had happened. She looked at Josyff, his face relaxed but alive with the flickering firelight. He was no New Order creature, she had already decided, nor were Nyk and the other two, from what she had heard of their conversation. They were working for them certainly, but what choice would they have had? They were just ordinary men getting on with their lives, doing their jobs. Part of her coiled in anger at this supine acceptance of the New Order — why didn’t these people see what she saw? Why didn’t they speak out? Do something, instead of dumbly bending the knee and lowering the head, acquiescing in their own imprisonment? But a quieter part of her held it in check. Had she herself more than once not wanted to quit this fight against such seemingly overwhelming odds? And she had no family responsibilities that might act as hostages against such passion. Then, too, a colder part now, honed by bitter experience: had she not learned long ago that railing against the apathy of others both wasted her own energies and, worse, antagonized those she wished to persuade to her way, driving them into further apathy or active opposition, doing the enemy’s work?

The tumbling thoughts slowly became calmer, allowing two to rise up and dominate. She was alive! Where, scarcely a day before, she had been facing a bleak and lonely death, now she was facing a future, and with it, opportunity. The prospect washed over her — exhilarating — almost overwhelming...

And with this came hunger!

Feigning unconsciousness while the others were eating had been surprisingly easy, so intent had she been on maintaining her deceit. But now, freed from that, the remaining savoury smell of Qualto’s cooking began to make itself felt.

Briefly she considered waking Josyff, but dismissed the thought as she looked at him, breathing heavily and completely relaxed on his makeshift bed.

Let him rest, came an unexpectedly compassionate thought. It was followed by a more calculating one: she now had a legitimate excuse for prowling about the place should she be discovered.

Quietly, she swung her legs off the couch and went to the door. It opened noiselessly on to a darkened passage. Tentatively, she stepped out. As she did, the lights came on, making her step back, alarmed. Nothing else happening however, she pondered which way to go. In both directions the passage ran straight for some way until it reached a junction, but what caught her eye was a door in the wall opposite, slightly ajar, and about halfway to the junction.

It proved to be the kitchen. The lights came on as she entered, startling her again, though less so than before. It was very clean and very orderly. Not that she had thought about it particularly, but she had imagined that Qualto’s cooking would be rooted in disorder and that a group of men alone must necessarily descend into squalor. She did not dwell on the revelation however; the proximity of food was increasing her hunger pangs dramatically. It took her only a moment to locate the remains of the impromptu meal that Qualto had prepared and only a few more to heat it, find a bowl, and begin eating.

“Simple pleasures,” she murmured, echoing what her father would have said.

“You are recovered, then?”

Esyal nearly knocked over the bowl as she jumped up.

Standing in the doorway was Adroyan.