The korreds ran us along the ridge for quite some time. I was hoping that I would get used to the jolts and swaying, but I never did. There was too much swerving around obstacles, and they flat out dropped me a few times. They would also come too close to the edge of the ridge and barely catch themselves before slipping off. When this happened some of them would snap at others in what turned out to be their own language, which sounded rough and jarring. I caught glimpses of them when they spoke, and sang, and all had pointed teeth just like Ko-Rethal.
They would also let the stretcher dip on one side or the other when they switched carriers in and out, which they did often.
I could only lie there and wonder why they had taken us prisoner. With that mob of them around us, as big as it was, they could have just stolen our belongings and left, and there would have been nothing we could have done about it. And I couldn’t believe that they really cared about us trespassing over their dark and fruitless territory, if that’s what was going on.
“Ko-Rethal,” I called out at one point. “Are you still there?”
“Indeed I am.” It turned out he was taking a turn carrying my stretcher, and he sounded strained as he spoke.
“Can you tell me why you have captured us? This is so much trouble. For all of us.”
“Not so much trouble for korreds,” he said. “We have caught and transported tapirs larger than you three, and done it with much smaller groups than this. Of course, by the time we have them tied to poles and ready to go, they are much less talkative and wiggly than you are.”
Eventually I did slide into a sort of numbed . . . numbness. The jolts, the slips, the endless tramp of many korred feet, and the dark canopy sliding past blurred together.
But then a cry from Freydis, ahead of me, startled me back:
“Whoop!” she said, approximately.
And then I was being carried down into a tunnel, just as she must have been. The noontime gray darkness of the Drearwold turned into near total blackness. The korreds continued to tramp along through it.
And then we exited the tunnel into a cavern – a cavern of light. I had to actually squint, it was bright enough. It was nothing like a sunny day down in Enkel Kanindal, certainly; but relatively speaking, the cavern was well-illuminated.
This was because of a very large aperture in the ceiling, perhaps twenty feet above us. The hole itself was at least eighty feet around; and above it, there was blue sky, no gloomy canopy as we had seen everywhere else. It was stunning. And of course I had no choice but to stare up at it, since I was still horizontal and tied to the stretcher.
Next I noticed the smell; the smell of water. I guessed the walls of the cavern would be dripping and mossy, if and when we were able to see them. This was a very pleasant change from the stagnant pools outside.
Our captors stopped and set us down on a very wide shelf or terrace. I could see korreds catching their breath, stretching their arms in the air, and so on. They seemed glad to be done with hauling us.
Next, the good news was that some of them set about untying me from the stretchers. The bad news was that others shackled my wrists together, and then my ankles together. Not tightly, but rather with about my shoulder’s width of slack in the chains. I would have to shuffle when I walked, if they were about to let me stand, and I couldn’t move my arms freely.
“Now see here,” Ko-Rethal said, “we’re about to let you stand. We are going to keep you hobbled, a bit. We’re quicker than you are, relative to our heights; but you have us on height, don’t you. So pardon us, but we’re going to take this precaution. You can get up.”
The last ropes were now off, and I raised myself up. Freydis did the same. Caiside, without her crutches, just sat upright. The korreds had shackled her wrists, too.
I now understood the scent of the water: in the middle of the cavern was a large pool, blue and with even some sparkles from the sun overhead. In it were a few korreds, who floated quietly and looked at us. They were young.
Many of the adults who had been carrying us joined them. They ran toward the pool, pulling off their tunics as they went, and jumped in. There were great splashes . . . well, small splashes, actually, as the crowd of them dived. Soon the pool was filled with dozens of them.
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“So this is your home,” Freydis said to Ko-Rethal. He stood next to us, one hand on his hip, the other on a spear. He watched over all of his people swimming.
“It is. Past that pool are tunnel entrances, as you can see. Trees ring that opening above us, of course. The densest in the Stillwold, so no enemies come across it.”
“So your home here is notably more pleasant than your running song would have had us believe,” I said.
“Everything in that song is true,” he answered. “Trolls, dunters; the darkness you saw; all true. But we have carved out a place where we can live.”
He was a serious man – korred, whatever – and his voice and speech were incongruous with the mass splashing and shouts from the water.
“You are our guests here,” he said. “Soon, we will have lunch. After that, we’ll discuss our terms for your release. We’re asking your help, as I mentioned, with a problem we have.”
“Given that we are bound, it doesn’t seem that you are asking,” I said.
“Well, it’s not something we’ll truly be able to force you to do. Although perhaps,” he added, somewhat to himself, “we actually could. At any rate, we will talk after we eat. Do you want to clean off, yourselves?” He glanced at our muddy boots.
“In your pool?” I asked.
“That’s right.”
“I would say no, thank you, for now.”
“That water flows, you know,” he said. “It has a current. An underground creek. It won’t just turn into a dirty bath, don’t worry.”
“It flows?” Freydis asked. “Not just a pool?”
“A stream,” Ko-Rethal confirmed. “Underground for some ways to our north, and then it continues that way all through the Stillwold until it spills out amid the pines. You know, my new friends – you may not have heard this about us before, but when it comes to our folk:”
He started singing. His voice was surprisingly powerful, given his size:
The dunters have more weapons, and the trolls are just meaner.
Some denizens in Drearwold may have eyes that are keener.
I know they might say I am just a loudmouth old preener,
but one thing that I’ll promise is: We korreds are cleaner.
The korreds in the water had quieted down right away when he had started singing, and now they all raised their arms and roared the chorus:
It’s a washing song
and you cannot go wrong
by lending korreds some soap.
It’s like a fat cake of hope!
They waved their arms back and forth, and the young ones splashed. Ko-Rethal resumed:
We know that you tall striders will be quicker, and leaner;
your pine-woods to the south, they’re often bright and serener;
a harvest fest out here would never find a convener;
but if you check, you might well find that korreds are cleaner.
The chorus sang:
It’s a dirt-scrubbing song
And you cannot go wrong
By tossing korreds some soap
It’s like a goose egg of hope
They all sang for the remainder of the number:
We know that out beyond, the rolling fields are greener;
the elves down in Umelthas have a finer demeanor;
if a korred girl goes trav’ling, likely no prince will queen her;
but here in our own woods we’re famed for being far cleaner.
It’s a grime-breaking song
And you cannot go wrong
By gifting korreds some soap
It’s like a fistful of hope
A Drearwold squirrel can be an unsurpassed quick careener;
our treetop frog can leap just like an ace trampoliner;
no one else can top the climbing skills of our lemur;
But I’ll tell you, as for korreds – well, nobody gets cleaner.
And with that, all the korreds in the pool cheered.
“Even so,” I said. “I think I’ll stay dry. For my part, at least. And it would be hard to get in, what with our legs bound.”
“Hmm, yes, probably true,” Ko-Rethal said.
.
BozhenaTelepko, CC BY-SA 4.0