13

The next day was sunny and bright. The air was warmed by the sun and a lovely little breeze blew in off of the lake keeping everything cool despite the bright sunshine. Alena dressed quickly after rising with the sun. She did not want any breakfast, but instead had Marta pack her a leather flask of wine and bread and cheese in a leather bag. She tied both of these to her girdle, grabbed her favorite walking stick and went out into the town center.

She had no real idea as of yet as to where she wanted to go. She looked in all four directions that she could choose from. She looked down the south road which would take her to the lake. The fisher men were just loading their nets into their boats. They used large woven nets that they would throw between each other’s boats and scoop up the fish between them, dividing their catches evenly between all of the boats. The morning launch was always fun to watch. She went down to the lake. The men sang while they loaded their equipment, bawdy songs about the sea that none of them had ever seen. They continued to sing, even after they had seen Alena perch herself on the wall ringing the lake. Some of the men waved to her and called her name in greeting. She waved back. Once they pushed their boats off into the water and began rowing out to the center of the lake, Alena closed her eyes and faced the rising sun. The natural warmth and light felt good upon her skin. She stayed there for a little while, watching fish jumping in the lake and birds diving to catch them. The lake lapped right up against the town. The town sat at the base of the mountain on a ledge of ground that seemed to cup all of the fertile material that washed down from the mountains in years past. The town held less than two hundred people, about twenty five families and it could hold no more. Children growing up had to move to the towns on the other side of the lake or travel over the mountains to other towns if they wanted a house of their own. Most though stayed on with parents and grandparents, living in ancestral homes that had been built at this site for hundreds of years, long before the Romans came and long before anyone’s memory held. Only Balder the Druid had stories of generation after generation of families who dated back to the opening of the salt mines. The houses were built up rather than out, most having four stories. They leaned on each other for support and stepped up the mountainside until there was no room to go any further. The granite under the top soil was so thick and strong that it could support any weight.

The lake itself was deeper than anyone knew. Some people in the past have tried to see how deep it was by diving down as far as they could but at a certain point it became too dark to see and too cold to stand the temperature. Other have tried to send down a rope with a weight on the end but most ropes just kept going down, seemingly without end. While no one in resent memory has seen it, it is said that a great beast lives at the bottom of the lake. It is a protector beast which only wakes and surfaces when the town has been under threat of invasion or attack. This has not happened in hundreds of years as the town is not easy to reach, taking several days to climb down to over the mountains and men would need to be funnels through narrow streets and alleys and the lake crossing would take over an hour and the white gold it produces flows so freely out to the provinces there is no need to mess with something that works so well. Either way, an attack would be known long before anyone could reach the town and the villagers had many ingenious was of dealing with unwanted company.

As a matter of fact, the town had never been invaded. Roman diplomats had come to see the town elders when they had taken over the area and the town, in its own best interests had made a deal with the Romans and a very good one at that. For a few, the town would be left to its own devices. The fee was hefty, but not burdensome to the town. Based on what they produced, they were getting off easy but no one knew the exact workings of the mines but the towns people and they were not about to betray their families. Outsiders were shown a perfectly choreographed operation that told the outsiders only and exactly what the villagers wanted them to know.

Since the town was run in a very democratic and social way, no one complained and no one told their secrets. Life was good for everyone, in and out of the town because of the way the town was run.

Once the sun had begun climbing the sky, Alena decided to go over to the meadows and fields that sat to the right of the town. She walked down along the lake, the walk way narrowing into a path just big enough for two to stand side by side. Here there was only this narrow shelf between the lake and the mountains rising straight above Alena’s head in a shear wall. There then came a gap covered by a small bridge where there was a crevice between two mountains. Water flowed out between the mountains into the lake. No one had ever been able to figure out if this water came from under the mountains or if it was run off from the snows at the mountain peaks. The crevice was narrow enough so that a person could jump from one side to the other, but the edges were of slipper rock and many people had slipped and drowned before the little bridge had been erected. Once across the bridge, the land opened up to a green meadow field divided in half by a river that formed from the water fall that fell from the mountain tops fifty feet in the air. The water fall was magnificent, falling down in a straight drop of a watery curtain that ended in a plume of mist like a foggy morning. The land here was too soft to build on with stone and trees were not easy to come by. The trees grew up the side of the mountain and besides not being very large, the villagers had found out in generations past that if they took down the trees the mountains would soon follow. These fields were used to grow vegetables in the summer months. It was too early yet to begin the plantings so the fields were open and deserted.

Alena walked through the grass to her favorite spot that was just far enough away from the mist to be dry but yet close enough where she could see the rainbows as the sun shone on the droplets. This was a favorite spot because as the sun moved across the sky the rainbows moved too, changing colors and forms to match the plumes of water. Stone benches had been set into place along this spot because it was a favorite resting place for the field workers and for families when they had their Sunday breaks and monthly extra day off from work and chores. A shallow pool was at this spot where children could swim and frolic in the pond without danger of drowning.

Birds flew in and out of the meadows catching the insects that lived in the spring grass. Herons used the area as a stopping point to places farther away. White or blue, it was not unusual to see the birds resting on one leg in the grass. Occasionally one could even see fox or deer taking a quiet stroll through the meadows when no one else was around.

The sun had reached its zenith. Alena removed her flask and bag from her belt and placed them on the stone bench next to her. She opened up her sack and spread it out like a small table covering. She broke off pieces of bread and cheese and broke her morning and mid-day fasts at the same time. After not eating the morning meal and her walk to this spot she was very hungry. She ate all of the cheese and most of the bread, washing them down with hearty gulps of wine. This was very pleasant. The rest of the bread she threw into the water and watched the small fish wrestle each other over their unexpected treats.
The sun and the walk and the food combined with the wine were making her sleepy. It hadn’t rained in several days so the earth was dry. She decided a little nap would be just the thing she needed. She had carried her light cloak with her, not needing to wear it on such a warm day, but knowing the temperature could change so fast that a person would be foolish to go without a covering. She spread it out on the ground and lay down. The sun played on her closed eyelids. Lights flickered like fireflies in the night and the warmth of the sun soon had Alena sound asleep.

She couldn’t breath. She dreamt she was drowning in the lake, the air cut off from her lungs and a pressure weighting down her body. She struggled upward, kicking a flaying to the surface, but the water was too much for her. She opened her eyes to find a masked man covering her mouth and nose and sitting upon her rib cage. The man had his head covered so she could not see his hair or his face. The hood had slits for the eyes and mouth. He did not make any sound. Alena struggled fiercely, knocking the man’s hand from her face. As she fought, she screamed and her voice echoed across the mountain faces, bouncing back and forth. The man attempted to hit her to shut her up but she struggle so much that he missed and only got her a glancing blow on the chin. She bucked and kicked while she yelled, her screams giving her strength. She dislodged him from her body, kicking out at him, her heel striking him in the mouth and knocking out some teeth and cutting her foot. She scrambled away from him but he grabbed her ankle and pulled her back. He grabbed the neck of her kirtle in the back and pulled. The material came away from her body ripping down the side seams. While this exposed her back, it also gave her more room to get away from him. She crawled and scrabble on the ground, desperate to escape, but he had some how managed to get a hold on her skirts. He pulled her back to him, grabbed her legs and flipped her over. She beat at his chest and tried to push him away using her knees but her strength was giving out. She tried got a hold of his hood and pulled it off planning to scratch his eyes out. When she got off his disguise, the will left her for a brief moment because the man attacking her was Wolfram. Her little pause in her struggles was the break he needed. He had her pinned to the ground, skirts to her waist and legs spread apart.

“I will have you one way or another,” he whispered in her ear as he placed both of her wrists in one of his hands and he used the other hand to grope between her legs.

After the initial shock wore off, she got back her will and began fighting Wolfram again. She also continued to scream. She bucked and kicked and struggled so much that he could only hold on to her. Soon she got a good kick to his groin which caused him to loosen his grip on her wrists. She got one hand free and raked her nails across his face causing deep bloody welts that went from eye to chin. This angered him so much that he let go of her and punched her in the face. Stars burst forth in front of her eyes and caused tears to spring into them too. But she knew she was fighting for her life. Regardless of what else he may do, she knew he would not let her live. She struggled around, hitting him with her fists. He slammed her body on the ground and her hand flung out into the grass and her wrist hit a rock. She scrabbled around it, got a hold of it and hit it into Wolfram’s skull. He toppled over sideways, stunned. She had just enough time to crawl out from under him, stand, back away and pull her dagger. She stood there watching him trying to catch her breath. He was not dazed enough for her to make a run for it yet. And she was so winded and sore that she didn’t think she would be able to escape him.

He was already on his feet, circling her. He reached for the knife at his belt but it must have fallen somewhere in there struggles because it was not in its holder. This disturbed him for a brief moment but didn’t slow him down much. She knew she had to keep out of his reach. If he got near her again, she would not be able to fight him off. They circled each other he moving forward her stepping back. She couldn’t figure out how she was going to escape him. She had stopped screaming. It was just taking away her energy and if no one had heard her by now they were not going to hear her. She had to play for time until she could form a plan of escape. Besides stalking her, he was now taunting her with lewd words, calling her names and detailing what he planned to do to her once he caught her again. He leered and salivated, drool actually dribbling down his chin and onto his tunic. She thought he might be mad, foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog. As there never was any talking to him in more sane moments, she did not even attempt to reason with him now.

She was becoming dispirited and desperate. Alena pointed to a man coming across the fields behind Wolfram. He shook his head, laughing manically. He wasn’t falling for that trick. But she had relaxed a bit and smiled. He thought she must really be a good bluffer and quite a cool cookie to act this way or there really might be someone behind him. Then he heard the whinny of a horse. He took a quick look over his shoulder and sure enough, a man on the biggest grey destrier Wolfram had ever seen was riding up to them. He came at a slow pace, picking his way in the soft earth. Wolfram wasn’t sure if the man knew Alena was in trouble but he wasn’t going to stick around to find out. Just then Alena began screaming again and pointing at Wolfram.

Wolfram took off across the field pounding into Alena as he went knocking her to the ground. She turned over and raised herself on her elbows to see Wolfram jump into the stream running across it to the other side, weaving his way through the grass. This turned out to be a smart move as the man on the horse had strung his bow, knocked an arrow and let it fly. His aim was true but he was so far away and Wolfram moving even further away that while the arrow made contact in Wolfram’s leg it did not lodge there securely. Wolfram, while hurt, was still able to keep moving. Soon he was into the mountains and it would be impossible to follow him from here on horseback.