Mamelon - Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Beth could not have said exactly what prompted her to leave the others. True, she was fed-up with playing eye contact games with Mick nor was she in the least amused by his clumsy attempts make her feel jealous of Irina.  On the contrary, she felt quite sorry for the elf girl who was clearly smitten with Mick’s boyish charm. No, it was something else altogether, almost as if a voice in her head was urging her to get away from there without delay. At the same time, it seemed the most natural thing to go for a pee.

She was on her way to rejoin the others when something rubbed against her leggings.  Looking down, she gave a delighted gasp, “Ace!” The little dog wagged its tail and allowed itself to be scooped up and fussed over while slopping a pink tongue all over the girl’s beaming face.  In no time at all, though, Ace began to wriggle furiously and Beth put him down. “No, this way,” she tried to insist as it ran off in the opposite direction.

Ace paused at one of the outer tent flaps, flung her a look as it to say, “Well, come on! What are you waiting for?” and then proceeded to run back and forth without making a sound but persistently nibbling at her ankles.

“Ouch!” Beth cried out, but the dog only glared and continued its antics with increasing vigour. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

The dog squatted on its haunches, treated her to an ironic expression, and put its front paws together as if clapping. She’d have laughed, but for a warning look in the dog’s eyes. Of course I am. The sharp canine eyes conveyed a growing impatience, Are you stupid, or…what?

“You want me to follow you, is that it?” She could have sworn the little mongrel nodded. “But…the others,” she protested.

Never mind them. They must take care of themselves. We have more important things to do. Now, come on, a low growl seemed to say. Beth hesitated. Do you want to help Mulac or don’t you?

“Mulac…?” Beth checked herself.  This was ridiculous. How could she be having a conversation with a dog?  Yet, Mulac’s name rose unbidden in her head just as if Ace had spoken it aloud.

Ace promptly dropped on all fours and dived under the tent flap, without a backward glance, as if the matter was settled. Beth had to concede it was. Confused, puzzled and not a little frightened, she crawled under the incredibly lightweight folds in time to glimpse a patch of white flank disappearing into the gloom. She chased after it and thought she saw something move out of the corner of one eye. But it was too far away to be sure. Besides, it took all her concentration to make out the dog’s shadowy form zigzagging crazily through the scrub. Panting hard, she had to struggle to keep up.

Without any warning, the dog stopped and performed an adroit belly flop. Beth nearly trod on its tail and swore. As it was, she tripped and went flying… straight into Mulac’s open arms.  She was unprepared and instinctively opened her mouth to scream. His kiss silenced her, and it was a while before she broke free. “This is neither the time nor the place,” she mumbled and wished she sounded more disapproving. “How dare you!” she added somewhat belatedly.

“I knew you would come,” was all he said.

“I must be mad!” Beth’s self-confidence returned with her anger although against whom it was mostly directed, the Nu-gen or herself, she remained unsure.  Neither did she quite understand why they were talking in whispers.  “It’s not as if you couldn’t have tracked us down yourself,” she flung at him accusingly. “What happened to you anyway?” she demanded, partly out of genuine interest and part;y by way of keeping a moral high ground she felt in imminent danger of losing.

“I wish I knew!” Mulac groaned. His voice sounded hoarse to her ears and choked with uncharacteristic emotion.

Beth felt compelled to stand back and consider the Nu-gen more closely. Something about him made her uneasy.  He was the same, yet not the same.  The oval disc dangling from his neck had lost its shine. It had always reminded her of a wolf’s eye. Now it was as if the wolf had gone blind and no longer posed a threat.  Suddenly, she understood what it was about Mulac that had been missing before. But even as she put a name to it, she became more disturbed than ever. For the word that sprung to mind was vulnerability. Once a wolf, emanating an animal lust for life, the Nu-gen now seemed curiously…tame. “What’s wrong?” she asked gently.

Mulac hesitated then lifted one hand very slowly to his face. “I am blind,” he confessed with a simplicity that tore at Beth’s heart. Instinctively, she glanced at the wolf’s eye but dismissed the ironic comparison as pure fancy. She braced herself to look directly into the sightless eyes. They were, she realised for the first time, very beautiful. She wanted to gather him into her arms, but sensed an embrace would not be welcome a second time. Their reunion had been spontaneous, impulsive, an acknowledgement of feelings for one another that neither cared to look at too closely. He was Nu-gen. Such emotion was alien to him. And she was Bethany Martin from Tunbridge Wells. It occurred to her that perhaps his blindness was a warning to them both. Almost at once, she dismissed the thought as too fanciful and melodramatic for words. 

“Come on, we can’t hang around here.” She took his hand but he snatched it away. “Be practical, mule-head!” she railed at him, “Let me help you.”

“I am Nu-gen,” he stated flatly.

“You are blind,” she reminded him and was shocked by her own forthrightness.

Mulac said nothing and hung back a while before stretching out his hand. Beth, too, hesitated before taking it.  As she did so, she half-expected to be struck by lightning or something. But nothing happened. Moreover, she felt nothing. Not even pity stirred within her. Certainly, there was none of the passion that gripped her as she had responded to his clumsy kisses. Even so, it was good to feel the warmth and roughness of his hand in hers. She would have led him back the way she had come but Ace darted off in another direction.

“What is it?” growled Mulac. Beth explained. “Follow the dog,” he told her.

“But the others…” she prevaricated.

“He led you to me, didn’t he?”

“Yes, but…”

“Then he must know things.”

“He’s only a dog!”  Beth laughed.

“He knows things,” repeated Mulac, “We must follow him and find out what he knows.”

“But Mick and the others, they will be looking for me.”

“And they will find you when the time is right. Meanwhile, we follow the dog.”   Beth agonized, pitting instinct against emotion.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.” She did not hesitate and he looked pleased.

“Good. We follow the dog.”

“If you say so,” she muttered without conviction.

“I do,” declared the Nu-gen in that same uncompromising tone that was guaranteed to make her hackles rise. Only, this time she took some perverse reassurance in the fact.  At least he was not full of self-pity. She could not have handled that.

As it happened, Ace led them to the spot where Beth had left the others, but by a roundabout route that meant nothing to her.  While the dog sniffed around, Beth and Mulac were glad to rest. Suddenly, Beth spotted something shiny on the ground. Bending to retrieve it, she recognized Mick’s key ring and gave a sharp cry.

“What is it?” Mulac leapt to his feet. She told him, close to tears.

“So he dropped it here. It proves nothing.”

“It was clipped to his belt. He left it here for me to find,” she insisted.

Mulac sniffed the air. “Krills have been here!”

“Oh, no, not again…!”  She burst into tears.  Mulac put an arm around her. “I hate this place, this…Mamelon!” she sobbed, “I hate it, I hate it!”

“It was not always like this,” he murmured into her hair. “One day, things will be as they should be and you will love it here.”

“I don’t think so!” she returned hotly. Mulac made no answer but squatted on the ground and rummaged in his knapsack to produce sticks of what she took to be liquorice for them to eat as well as a flask of vinre.

“Sit,” he told her brusquely, “A little food and drink make even bad times seem better.”

“I’m not hungry or thirsty,” she mumbled. It seemed no time at all since she had been tucking in with Mick and the others.

“Well, I am!” said the Nu-gen.  After watching him for a while, Beth had to concede he may have a point and accepted one of the liquorice sticks. It tasted delicious, not like liquorice at all but more like a tangy cheddar cheese. The vinre, too, helped calm her nerves. She looked for Ace, but the little dog was nowhere to be seen.

“What is the matter?” Mulac felt her tense beside him.

“Ace has gone!”

“He’ll be back.” The Nu-gen shrugged so matter-of-factly that it did not enter Beth’s head to doubt him.  She shivered in spite of the night air’s clammy heat. It was Mulac’s turn to tense. Then he put an arm around her and let her snuggle against his tunic. Neither spoke. Before long, she was asleep. But the Nu-gen brooded long into the night.

When he had stumbled in the mist, in agony from the humming noise piercing his eardrums, Mulac had not lost consciousness at once.  He tried to call out to the others, but no sound emerged from his lips as he engaged in a fruitless battle with mounting panic. Instinctively, he glanced behind at where the danger lay. A yellow fog was rolling through the mist like a hazy fireball, looming bigger and bigger as it bore down upon him. He had struggled to rise. But his left leg dragged on every muscle and he was forced to cower where he lay.  He was Nu-gen, he kept telling himself. Fear meant nothing to him. Yet, he understood only too well, that what gripped his heart in an iron fist was sheer terror.

The approaching horror had gathered pace and was about to swallow him whole. Staring annihilation in the face and powerless to defend himself, stories about his forefathers sprung to mind. Was this, he wondered, what it was like to lose one’s soul?  Nor did it seem strange to put the question even though, as Nu-gen, he had been reared to believe he had no soul to lose.  Suddenly, in his mind’s eye, he saw wolves. Wolves…?  A distant memory tugged at his mind.  “Who am I?” he asked himself without thinking.  All at once, he was distracted. A small dog appeared out of nowhere. It leapt at him before he had time to grasp its intention. Too weary even to be surprised, he rolled on his back. The dog landed on his stomach. The ball of fog was practically upon them. The dog growled. He only vaguely saw the animal take a defensive stance. Past caring, he shut his eyes and awaited the worst.

As he closed his eyes, the awful humming had ceased. Instantly, he began to feel like his old self. He felt the dog shift slightly where it still lay on his stomach but sensed  the immediate danger had passed. Experiencing a sensation like clammy fingers poking him all over, he had presumed the fog was upon them.  At the same time, terror gave way to an intuitive sense of its groping impotency.

Then he had opened his eyes and seen… nothing. He was blind.

Panic had welled within him again, its clawing fingers reminding him of the fog. Only, this was worse. He sensed the mist had thinned, maybe even lifted completely.  Why, oh why could he not see for himself?  The dog stirred.  Instinctively, he reached out, but it eluded his grasp and ran off.  Come back, he’d wanted to yell at the top of his voice.  Yet, although his lips moved, they made no sound. I will, don’t worry. He seemed to hear an answering call in his head and put it down to wishful thinking.

After a while, he had got shakily to his feet and taken a few tentative steps only to trip on something he took to be a fallen branch and go sprawling. For the first time in his life, he, Mulac, wept.

How long had lain there, hugging his misery as if it were the only meaningful thing left to him, he would never know.  A picture of Bethan, called Beth, floated into his mind’s eye and lingered. “Help me,” he heard himself sob and saw her so clearly that she might have been real.

“I’m coming!” The image of her lips had moved, and he knew it would not be long before she found him. The motherworlder’s lovely eyes had filled with tears and a passion equal to his own. He felt himself come alive again. Yet, how could this be? He was Nu-gen, and Nu-gen had no time for such things. Oh, they had feelings, of course they did. They knew about love, hate, jealousy… They could be happy, sad, and moved to run a whole gamut of feeling. Sometimes, they might even experience a special rapport with another in the tribe. But this fire, this passion, it was alien to Nu-gen. He feared it almost as much as he had feared the fog. But where he had dreaded the fog swallowing him whole, he would gladly give himself to this. Who am I to feel this way?” he demanded of his inner self and recalled asking himself the same question even as the ball of fog had caught up with him and proceeded to probe him, mind, body and spirit.

He had staggered to his feet and plunged resolutely into the darkness that was all that awaited him. In spite of his blindness, some deeper instinct came to his aid. He sensed he had nothing to fear so long as he kept the image of Bethan in his head and followed sounds in his ears, much like a dog barking, as if issuing directons. 

Safe now, Mulac looked down at the sleeping Bethan beside him and let the warmth and smell of her invade his remaining senses. So much so, he could not bear to sleep. Indeed, he put up a game fight. Inevitably, though, sleep won if disinclined to temper any victory with mercy.  “Ah-hhh…!” Mulac screamed, tossing and turning in a cold sweat.

“What the…?” Beth woke and had to struggle free of the Nu-gen’s grip on her arm. “Mulac, wake up!” His eyes flew open. Instantly, he relaxed his hold. The anguish of his expression at not being able to see cut her to the quick and helped her stay calm. “You were having a nightmare.” She wiped his face with her scarf.

“Nightmare?” he groaned.

“A bad dream….”

“Ah, yes!” Now he understood. “Strange, how asleep I can see and awake I cannot. Awake is like…being dead,” he said with a gentle irony that devastated her more than if he had ranted and raved. She fumbled awkwardly for something to say to reassure him, rejected various clichés and was relieved to hear a familiar barking.  “Ace..!” She scrambled to her feet. The dog bounded up to her, wagged his tail, cocked his head on one side then ran off again. “He wants us to follow,” she told Mulac.

“So, what are we waiting for?” The swarthy Nu-gen instinctively pushed Beth’s helping hand away. But his sense of balance left much to be desired and he was forced to reach out for it again.  He heaved himself up and would have withdrawn the hand, but she clutched his fingers tightly.

“Don’t you dare let go of my hand, do you hear? She told him. “You need me as much as I need you.  It may not suit either of us, but that’s life. Am I right or am I right?”

“You may have a point,” he conceded dryly and let her guide him. It took every last drop of willpower. He felt naked and humiliated. But what choice did he have? “Females!” he grumbled under his breath. Beth heard, gave his hand a gentle squeeze and was rewarded with a blast of muttered oaths.  They trudged on, Ace leading the way.

An early morning haze was already lifting by the time the unlikely trio reached the desert proper. Beth stopped, awe-struck. Ahead of them stretched an appalling expanse of red sand likely to intimidate the most formidable spirit. The barren landscape of Fah-y-Noor, Place of Skulls, was much as she imagined hell.

Ace ran ahead, jerkily, with numerous stops and starts. He would wait for them to catch up, and then dart off again, disappear beyond one of the numerous sandy dunes only to hare back in a short while, alternatively barking encouragement and growling with impatience.  Time passed slowly. The sand scorched the soles of their boots. Mulac had taken to placing his left hand upon her right shoulder as he padded, morosely, one step behind; to Beth, it felt like a ton weight.

Above, the sun glared with relentless ferocity. Inconsequentially, Beth found herself wondering yet again why Mamelon had two moons but only one sun. Just as well or we’d be fried alive for sure.  Several aryds swooped, made a low arc just above their heads and hovered like ghouls. “We must find shade and rest,” she gasped. They had been trudging for miles, surely?  Yet the far-off purple haze of mountains seemed no nearer than when she had last peered over the scarf tied around her face. Meanwhile a gritty dust continued to tear at the few exposed parts of her flesh like a swarm of vicious insects.

“No time,” Mulac, insisted “We must press on,” he panted. How could he tell her that there was no shade?  Surely she must know the flask of vinre in his pack did not hold infinite mouthfuls?  The Nu-gen grimaced.  He had crossed deserts before. But, this Hah-y-Noor, this was something else. Would they die in this terrible place, he wondered? Do I care? Of course he cared! And, no, we are not going to die. He was sure of it. All at once, without quite knowing why, he felt elated.  In his mind’s eye, an inviting cameo appeared. He saw a steady stream of water among a cluster of rocks trickling into a grassy patch shaped like the palm of a hand. “This way!” he cried.  Dropping his hand from Beth’s shoulder, he hastened ahead. It was his turn to lead, and he did so without flinching.

“What are you doing?” Beth cried and ran after him.

“Trust me.”

“But…you’re blind!

“Take my hand, there is a sand storm coming.”

“You’re mad!”

“Probably,” Mulac agreed. He waited for her to catch up and then grabbed her arm.  Exasperatedly, Beth shook herself free.  Suddenly, the storm struck and she could not see Mulac at all even though he was standing right next to her.  He groped for her hand and this time she knew better than to pull away. She resisted, however, as the Nu-gen attempted to lead her through the swirling red sand. “We should wait until the storm passes!” she yelled.

“By then we’ll be dead,” he shouted back. Beth began to panic. By now she was utterly confounded and as blind as he. Battered by wind, grit and sand, she screamed above the awful cacophony, “We should wait for Ace. He’ll find us, I know he will!”

“Do you want to be found alive or dead? Trust me,” he repeated.

How can I? she would have retorted had a powerful gust not almost flung her to the ground. Sand poured into her mouth, gagging her. Mulac made no answer but dragged her to her feet and pulled her after him. Beth submitted, resigned to going along with this…utter madness.

Mulac headed for the fist-shaped rocks. So vivid were they in his mind’s eye that he was convinced they were no illusion. How he could be so sure when he had never passed this way before was beyond his understanding. He only knew that he was right. Bowing his head against the sand, he battled on, thankful that Bethan had decided to co-operate.  Suddenly, the ground became much firmer albeit still belching grit and sand.  He paused and peered ahead with sightless eyes that were smarting terribly and ‘saw’ a promontory just ahead. Shelter... He tried to hurry, but it made no difference. Progress was agonizingly slow. 

Finally, they made it. The desert floor sloped sharply, propelling them into a niche of rocks that formed a small cave just big enough to allow two exhausted refugees from the storm to crawl inside.  Immediately above them, a jutting rock wagged an impotent finger at the desert’s blood-red fury.

In such a confined space, the bedraggled pair had no choice but to lie down. Both welcomed an excuse to press tightly against the other. Neither, though, was proof against the onslaught of raw emotion that reared and fell upon them like a pack of hungry wolves.

They made love.

Eventually, they slept and it was Mulac who woke first although he closed his eyes again almost upon opening them. The fragrance of Beth’s hair under his chin triggered memories of their lovemaking. In spite of a raging thirst, he managed a grin. No female had ever satisfied him better or made him feel so…complete.

Complete? The Nu-gen played with it on his tongue. It sounded strange, yet apt. Then the silence hit him like a sledgehammer and he gave a long sigh of relief. The storm must have passed.  A warm wetness began stroking his face, now tickling his nose. Recognizing its source, the Nu-gen opened his eyes and reached out for the little canine. Well done, the dog seemed to say, wagging its tail and waking Beth. 

“Ace..!”  Beth was even more delighted than Mulac to see the little mongrel again.

“What’s that?” Mulac pricked up his ears.

“It sounds like…” Beth strained to hear.

“Running water...!” Mulac leapt to his feet and sent the dog flying. Ace did not seem to mind in the least and led the way, barking loudly, to a clutch of rocks nearby that closely resembled the fingers of a hand. Into a tiny indentation, not unlike a child’s palm, dripped a steady trickle of water. There was only room for one at a time. Beth expected Mulac to go first. Uncharacteristically, he hung back.  She promptly knelt down and cupped her hands although she did not drink immediately but lifted her precious load to the Nu-gen’s quivering lips. The wolf’s eye around his neck glinted in the sunlight as if winking. It crossed Beth’s mind that the wolf approved of her and she found the whimsy oddly comforting. Then she lay flat again and drank her fill before assisting Mulac to take her place.

“We have wasted enough time,” growled Mulac. “Fill the flasks with water then we must leave. Whatever waits for us in the Purple Mountains will not wait forever,” he added with a certainty he could not explain. He pointed. “There is an underground stream we can follow. Since it has not dried up completely, it may well continue to provide water.”

Beth looked where he pointed but saw nothing. “How can you possibly know that? Besides, you’re…”

“Blind, yes. Thank you for reminding me,” he said scathingly. “Do not ask me to explain for I cannot. Yet, in my mind’s eye, I see what I see. You can trust me, or…” He shrugged and proceeded to scramble over some rocks ahead. However, she saw that he did so with none of the sureness of someone with normal vision. She pursed her lips. Mulac may well see whatever it was he thought he could see, but that certainly wasn’t everything. She finished filling the leather flasks and then hurried after him, grabbing his hand as he stumbled.  He snatched it away. “I am not a child. I do not need you to hold my hand,” he snapped.

“Well, I do!” Beth retorted.

“Huh!” was all Mulac said but the way his fingers entwined with hers and gave them a gentle squeeze belied the Nu-gen’s surly manner. Beth’s heart skipped a beat and she was almost glad he couldn’t see her face.

But Beth was mistaken. Mulac could ‘see’ her face clearly.  It was uncanny, this inner vision. By now, he was almost accustomed to it. Once the initial shock had worn off, he’d quickly adapted.  He did not accept it, and never would. At the same time, common sense dictated he must resign himself to the condition, for now at any rate. Nor had it taken long before he began to appreciate how this lack of normal sight was no ordinary disability. On the contrary, he had the strongest sense that it was a gift.  But, .how, why?  To add to his confusion, a voice inside his head insisted that no external forces had imposed this blindness upon him. Rather, this inner vision had been summoned. Should he feel reassured or take it as a warning? “This is madness,” he muttered, not for the first time. He shook his black mane and set his jaw resolutely. Whatever, if the weird phenomenon saw them safely across Fah-y-Noor, he supposed they must be grateful.

The pair set off again. Neither mentioned their lovemaking, nor were their thoughts ever far from it.

To be continued