#55 - A Harsh Place

Ologbon, so comfortable on Didara’s neck that he sat cross legged, dropped the last mirror chip he’d just embroidered around back into the basket. 

“Aren’t you going to put those on my hat too?”  Didara rumbled at him as they walked the narrow, wet road.

“There’s already not much room to put any more mirrors, Di!” But he smiled and stretched his fingers.  “The Queen stag’s people say there’s a storm coming and they hope to open one of their herd shelters.”

“What kind of storm, Olo?”  She asked.  “This rain is starting to turn white and the road is getting slippery as if it were mud instead of good stone!  This is a crazy country where rain is white and doesn’t go away.  And I’m cold!  Water moves from a liquid state to a solid state in many more forms than I thought.  This will make a wonderful science song to match my theory of water becoming invisible and part of air under pressure of heat!

“I’ll transcribe notes for you once we reach the herd shelter,” he said, grinning, but she interrupted him. 

“I can transcribe my own notes, thank you, Olo!  I’d rather you embroidered more mirrors on my hat!  Or on Jagunjagun’s muff I suppose.”

“I’m not so vain, Didara,” he said from his place just behind the Queen stag’s Antlers… They were armed and acting like they were in imminent danger, from more than just the oncoming storm.  “I like the fur lining.”

They turned a sharp corner and entered a clearing where they turned off the road and followed  edge of an abrupt drop off around to what looked like a bitten-off chunk of hill.  The road they followed now was a path beaten by centuries of hooves it looked like, though the top layer was muddy and slick.  It took them a good while to make it around and down to the floor of the byte, and Didara and Jagunjagun moved into the centre of the area.

“This is their shelter?  Jagunjagun swayed back and forth, his ears waving in distress.  “The head antler said this storm could drop enough snow on us to bury us to the armpits! Even if this is out of the storm wind’s path!”

“No, Jag,” Ologbon said.  “See? They can cover enough of this space for a herd of a thousand apparently.”

“that seems a bit over optimis…ah.”  Didara interrupted herself as their Cylak escort fanned out and looped ropes around what looked like great hoops arching across the ground.  The High Antler came and bowed to them, the high, fast gabble almost too much for either Didara or Jagunjagun to follow.

“They want us to pull, if we would be so kind?” Jagunjagun trumpeted laughter.  “Olo, hook us up!”

He laughed and slid down Didara’s shoulder to squeak at the High Antler, who laughed and the ropes were quickly passed to Olo, as Didara and Jagunjagun turned around at his direction.

The two elephants both wore neck swags under their newly designed winter coats and there were hooks that snapped open at their shoulders where the ropes were quickly looped in and then, in unison, they stepped forward. One step pulled the ropes up out of the mud and squeezed water out of the fibres.  The second step brought the ponderous hoop up out of the trench it had been buried in and the ends were locked against the cliff wall so as the elephants walked it rose up and out, followed by a slightly smaller hoop, then a third and a fourth and a fifth.

“how on earth do they lift this without us?” Didara asked and Olo, at her ear, walking forward with her, shrugged.

“Probably a lot of deer and a lot of people,” he looked back at the Cylak escort and they waved them on.

“He said he needs a six hoop roof… ah.” The sixth hoop locked in place at an angle that would let Ologbon duck under it, as the first hoop touched the cliff face, the elephants facing the rock wall with the ropes pulled back by Cylak deer and men.  People scrambled up to lock the hoops tight to the wall and then the cords came loose.

“Look at that!”  Didara turned and raised her trunk, delighted, as people drew bales of leaves?  If they were leaves they were double the height of these tall people and whistling to speed themselves up they began spiking them to the hoops with nails made of what looked like huge thorns, lashing rawhide ropes between the hoops to reinforce them.

The wind was already howling through the trees above the cliff, and gusts would hit the needle trees outside their byte.  Snow in tiny ice pellets swirled above, even as the roof and walls closed out the darkening sky.

“The Cylak say that it will be safe to light fires inside, once they finish.  Only a little snow will get in right at the start.  And there will be enough leather leaves to make a dry floor.”

“ingenius.  These leaves grow here each year?  They must or they wouldn’t be able to gather them in such quantities but those trees we saw are all needle trees.  Where do they grow?  How on earth do those trees gather enough energy to make such sized leaves?”

“I’ll go help with the floor, Di, so I can do more embroidery and then you can take notes of all your questions!”

“get one of the antlers to talk to me later, would you?”

“Of course, Di, we just need to get everyone under cover first.”

The wind note dropped even then and the snow swirls became whips that began hissing over the newly sealed shelter, every Cylak running to get the leaves tied down tight.  They’d have to cut a door after but solid shelter was more important.

Two fire places at the cliff face, with natural chimneys, already had fires laid and candle lanterns were being lit as they closed themselves into darkness, oppressive even when it was taller than Didara.  Jagunjagun found himself with his trunk tucked carefully into the fur muff under his chin, standing near one of the fireplaces, across from where the horses and the riding deer were, gently swaying almost hypnotically to the hiss of the now vicious wind outside.

“This is such a harsh place,” he rumbled below even where Olo could hear him.  “Didara, these are very tough people.”