It was a long time before I opened my eyes. When I did, I was laying on a hard mattress with a drilling ache on the bridge on my nose. I slouched up in heavy clothes and that throat full of sickly mucus. "Ugh…"
Vaguely aware of my surroundings, this was a wonky shack, a cold and putrid pigsty. The stench of manure seemed encased in the walls as if an ingredient in the wood; it was gag inducing, and it covered the floor like a greasy carpet. I rose from the bed, and setting my boots in it, moved toward a window smeared over with the same shit. I wiped it clean with a sleeve and beams of fresh sunlight came through the glass, revealing Kat crouched in the corner. "Where are we?" I asked, too sore to be surprised.
He joined me at the window, smudged another circle clean, and then gazed outside, the sun revealing his troubled face. "We are in a village at the foot of Macro Mountains," he said. "A modest place whose residents will bring us no harm. They have agreed to have us here, and you will be grateful for their hospitality."
"Course," I muttered, hardly grateful for this kind of filthy generosity; however, I was eager to explore more of this modest village in the Distinct Earth.
"How long are we staying?" I asked, scratching the sleep from my eyes. With no response, I left the window and a powerful spell sent me staggering back to bed. “Think the last few days have…caught up with me."
Feeling Kat's eyes on the side of my face, I whispered the word wizard as I lay back down. We had both survived that old man and his swine army. I figured Kat must have done something very special with that katana to get us out alive. How many more bog men did he slay? Tiny little miracles, Daniel, scattered everywhere.
"Your swordsmanship was impressive, Kat. Amazing, actually. I've never seen anything like that. How did you get so…good?"
There was a deep melancholy about the samurai, and an elderly man's frailness. Right now he did not seem capable of the feats I'd seen. Perhaps the last few days had caught up with him, too? He stroked fat fingers over the thin swords, those inanimate objects the only friends he’d ever had.
"The sword is a brush," he said, soberly. "After four hundred years, the art of killing is more than mastered."
I decided not to pry further on our escape. Details were best left to the imagination. It was difficult to remove all the thoughts from my mind though, especially of the wizard. Scarfell was the name. I could almost see his craggy face smeared on the shitty walls here. The more he prayed on my mind, the more Scarfell and Kat seemed to melt together. Two men so dead in the eyes, yet so full of fire.
"The wizard," I said, sitting up again. "Before he hit me, he mentioned something about a king? Do you remember?"
"King Bludgeon," said Kat. "Lives high in the Macros. He is to train you."
"Train? For what?"
"Everything!" he complained. "You must be skilled in various forms of combat before you see any Fortress. I have my instructions."
Would this afterlife ever stop throwing up surprises? Combat training with a king inside a mountain? What next, I wondered, for wonder was all I could do. "King Blugdan," I said dreamily to myself.
"Bludgeon!" corrected Kat, with a ready temper. "A great honor!"
"I'm sure. And how long will training with this Bludgeon last?"
Kat's profound sigh at the window was like a tired spirit leaving his body. "As long as it takes…" he grumbled.
"One last thing, Kat, one last thing. Scarfell, he said something about you — the only man ever to fight his way out of Hell. Is that true?"
"No more of wizards!" he yelled, driving his fist through the window. Light immediately filled the shack, illuminating a swarthy floor and new blood over Kat's knuckles. He stormed off into the village, nearly pulling the door from its hinges on his way.
Stunned, I did not follow. No stranger to losing my temper, I didn't take it personally. I was grateful to have Kat now, that was an honor too, and I should not pick at the man's brain for niggling details. Despite my layers of clothing, the frost still bit. I crept out of bed to warm myself with exercise when one of the villagers, without knocking, entered the shack and fixed the door behind her.
"Oh, be seated sir!" she said, escorting me back to bed. "You've overtired yourself. It's expected. Yes, that's what's happened." Dressed in a frumpy frock, her age was hard to tell. The engraved lines of her face suggested a hard worker, and far from an attractive one. "Can't be up and about, sir! Here…" she passed me a clear glass of what appeared to be water. "A sip and sleep will make you right. Drink."
My mother taught me never to accept anything from strangers, but thirst taught me differently. I drank her water, parched my crusty lips, and washed down some of the scum lining my throat. "Thank you very much. I'm Danny, Daniel Fox."
"Pleased to meet you, conscious Mr. Fox. The samurai had you over his shoulder when he arrived last night. Caused quite a stir with the women, let me tell you. My name is Madam B."
I smirked. "Madam B? The letter B?"
"Correct."
"Unusual," I said, and she smiled thinly.
"Sorry you're put up in this run down shack. This is all we had to spare."
"I'm not feeling that bad. I'd rather not be here too long."
"Good," she said, unintentionally pleased. "We," she stuttered, remembering herself, "are not used to visitors here, Mr. Fox. Never here. Normally we would say no, but the request came from a great man. We could not say no…We would not. Not to him."
Newton, I presumed. Like the horses before and added extras of kings and mountains, the scientist had overseen every element of this task. I was in good hands.
"He is a great man," I agreed, returning her glass. "How long have you been in this village, Madam B?"
"A long time," she answered plainly. "I am the longest now. We are safe at least, perhaps the safest in all the Distinct Earth." Her eyes suddenly crossed upon noticing the broken window, the shards of bloody glass distracting her from the conversation.
"My companion," I said, apologetically. "He has a short fuse."
Lost in her daydream, Madam B picked up a piece of glass and examined Kat's blood dribbling along its edge. I studied her trance until enough time passed to make things uncomfortable. Coughing for attention, her tired eyes very sharply met my own. "Madam B?" I whispered. "Are…you alright?"
"Of course," she replied, robotically dropping the shard. "Everything is fine here."
I tipped my forehead and cautiously approached her. "Tell me, Madam B, how many people are there in your village? Do you know?"
"There are twenty-five of us, and although your surly friend wanders the grounds now, I would advise you not to do the same, Mr. Fox. Some are still anxious about your presence here. Best wait until dinnertime. A hearty meal will see you both full, happy, and on your way. Yes, no need to stay after your meal. No need at all."
"No," I replied, repressing my own feelings, feelings about this stinking icebox, this strange village, and her stranger behavior.
Madam B opened the door, and the protruding lump at her belly immediately appalled me. A trick of the light, I hoped, but a second glance left me with no doubt: She was heavily pregnant. I wavered back to the bed, unsure what to make of it.
"Don't be startled," she said kindly, caressing her stomach. "Be with us next month…my little miracle."
I briefly nursed a dry mouth before regaining some composure. "I, I never realized you could make babies in the afterlife. New life in death? How can such a thing be…possible?"
She forced a grin. "Get some rest, Mr. Fox. I will see you at dinner. I'll see you then."
Madam B left me alone, and I lay down. I was not tired any more. Here in the day and the dark, the frosty walls and rough mattress, roundabout thoughts bounced like countless sheep over the picket fence. Tiny little miracles Daniel, scattered everywhere.
***
It was the headmaster, Margaret McKinney, who told me the news. I could tell she was crying when I picked up the phone, or trying not too, for my sake. It's funny how you're life can change so completely in a matter of minutes, how the earth can so easily open up and swallow you.
"Are you okay, Mrs. McKinney? What's-"
"Their bus went off the road," she sniffed, apologizing before and after. "Six dead, Mr. Fox. Two teachers, and four…children."
The rest was a blur. Margaret didn't have to tell me; I already knew it.
Losing a child is an indescribable feeling. There's no feelings left when the heart has been ripped out of you.
***
I woke with a start, the early light now was replaced by a strong orange musk seeping in though the shed cracks. A young woman nursed me at my bedside, dabbing a soggy cloth over my forehead. No more than eighteen years old, she hid a pretty face behind a fringe of dirty blonde hair, and her body looked as delicate as any I had seen.
"You were crying, mister," she said, her voice soft and pleasant. "Never seen a fella cry before."
The drying tears on my cheeks confused me. I slouched up, then cleared them with both palms.
"A nightmare?" she asked.
I shook my head — not a nightmare, but a memory.
"Stinks awful bad in here," she said. "Awful, awful bad. You will need a cleanup before dinner. Just sit still now."
"What's your name?" I said, sitting back while she attended to me.
"Name's-" she paused, expressing brief confusion. "They…call me Madam L, you can call me L."
"L? That's weird, already met a B today."
"You spoke to Madam B?" she asked, unmistakably anxious. "Did she mention me at all?"
"Well, no." I said, puzzled. "Why would she?"
The girl turned from me, soaking the cloth in a bowlful of dirty water. I took her slender wrist and she allowed the cloth to sink into that murky bowl. "Why would Madam B mention you?" I asked again.
"Just thought she would've told you, that's all. After all, our purpose was her idea. Solution, she calls it."
"Our purpose?" I said, releasing her wrist. "Which is?"
She lowered her forehead to hide her blushing. She was a beauty with peachy skin, plump cheekbones, and two soft lips like streaks of red paint. Times like these I had to forget I was still a man of flesh and blood. "You take orders from Madam B?" I asked, regaining some composure. "Is she in charge here?"
"Madam B guides us from evil," she said. "She protects us all."
The girl's voice was sincere enough; there was no hint of a lie, as far as I could tell. I even sensed a fondness for her labored-looking leader. Intrigued, I continued with diligence down this line of questioning: "How does Madam B, a pregnant woman, protect you?"
The girl kept her face and her answers from me.
"Am I upsetting you?" I asked. "I'm sorry if I am, it's…"
She kept quiet, and attempting to meet her eye, I caught sight of the scratches scoring her arms and shoulders. Disturbed, I combed back her fringe to discover a lash across her forehead, the blood barely dry. "Who did this?!"
Her chin trembled with her bottom lip, and falling tears gave a polish to her emerald eyes, but if the girl wanted to tell me, her mouth kept the secret under lock and key.
"I can help you," I said, sure of myself. "I can! Madam B? Did she do this? Did she hurt you?"
"Everyone must have a use," she murmured. "A…purpose."
I took the drenched cloth from the bowl and cleared the grime from her face. "Please, don't cry. Whatever the problem, there is no excuse for marks like that. See there, really-"
Taking me by surprise, L smudged my lips with a rough and unfussy kiss, ending with the sound of popping lips. I was completely gob-smacked, lip-smacked rather, as she removed her raggedy top to expose her pear shaped breasts. I opened my mouth to protest, but before any words left my tongue, she flung herself on top of me and then smeared her tits through my hands.
"Our purpose!" she said, kissing my mouth and locking her legs around my hips. "Give me a child! Give me!"
"Wh, What?!" I choked, as the girl fought herself down on top. She wasn't strong, just extremely determined.
"Madam B knows!" she groaned, rubbing at my groin. "No talking now, mister! I'll enjoy it more it you don't talk!"
I too groaned, as this alluring creature's busy fingers unbuckled my belt. I wanted to let this happen, to go with it, but the more I let appetite take over, the louder the sense inside me screamed, "Get a hold of yourself, asshole!"
I turned the sprite over, sat on her flat stomach and pressed her wrists against the mattress. "I'm very flattered," I said, red-faced. "I really am, and I'd love to, but-"
"You gotta fuck me!" she begged. "You gotta!"
"I don't gotta do anything!"
Again, and with wild eyes, she wrestled against my weight, all the time pleading for a baby. "Anything mister! Anything you want!"
My strength won out in the end, and when the girl finally surrendered, her tears resumed, pitiful, hopeless sobbing. "You don't understand, mister! You can't!"
"Make me." I said, stepping back. "Talk to me, please?"
At that instant, the shack door was thumped open, giving me the fright of a lifetime. Kat filled the doorway, body glowing against the evening orange. His face tensed with repulsion as he examined the sight of this older man and half-naked woman distressed on the bed. Before I could explain or hear L's story, the girl scurried over the bed and raced past Kat, who pompously tried not to notice her bouncing breasts.
"It's not what you think…" I said, feeling his glare.
***
Dusk was replaced by the rapid tide of darkness. Atmospheric lanterns lit various locations around the village, and the escalating sound of goings on lured me out of the shack. I was pleased to be away from the shit, but still very aware of it drying over my boots now.
The community was tightly knit, the sort of place were privacy is non-existent, where your business is everybody else's. The homes only were moderately better than the shack, built from disjointed stones using mud for insulation. There were around twenty of these depressing hovels built over sludge. This was a tough existence, hard work and heartache, and no matter how safe they might be, I did not envy any soul residing here.
Only one of these homes appeared fit to live in, fit for a king, in fact. Georgian in style, it was an immaculate white, had a welcoming wooden porch, two floors, clean windows, and a pleasing glow coming from red curtains inside. I wanted to point out the peculiarity of that spotless home in this dilapidated village. I needed to share this nonsense with someone, anyone, but it appeared that the only peculiarity here was my presence. Faces watched, fingers pointed, and doors closed at my back.
Arriving at a long dining table, three women assembled plates and cutlery for the evening meal. I watched their work and they sensed me watching. None smiled or gave me the pleasure of their face. Kat would be at home here. "Excuse me," I said, moving closer. "Can I have a minute?"
One of them, a redhead with face full of freckles suddenly accosted me. "What is it?" she cried, somehow insulted. "What have I done? What do you want?"
“Sorry. It's nothing…” My mind was suddenly scrambled, not by her attitude, but by the swollen belly under her cardigan, and the baby growing inside it.
"You're…pregnant?"
She placed a motherly hand over her stomach and smiled, as Madam B had done. "Due any day."
The other two women placed the last of the knives and forks, and I noticed that they too were pregnant. I had to rub my face, needed to get off my feet. "How can we help you?" one asked, but I was too mystified to respond. The young woman repeated her question, and words eventually found me.
"Where…are the men? I have seen none. Are they hiding or something? Lost?"
The redhead laughed, directing her hand behind me. "Why, there is one man!"
I turned, hopes dashed to see Kat strolling toward me. "Kat!" I said, hurrying to him. "Man, we have to talk!"
Looking more irritable than ever, Kat was not interested in anything I had to say.
"You were told to remain in the shack!" he bawled, both cheeks fat with air. "You were told!"
"Oh," I protested, "so it's fine for you to go on walkabouts, huh? I couldn't stay in that fucking pit a second longer! There is something wrong here, okay? We're not safe!" I clutched his arm but he slapped it down.
"You do as I say!" he said, suddenly pinching my chin with his thumb and finger. "I will not tell you again!"
With a push of his palm, he jerked back my stunned face. My heels came away and I slipped foolishly to the mud, the samurai already returning in the direction he had come.
***
The table was surrounded by people and food that evening; it was a feast of chicken, pork, fish, bread, water, and wine. All the stops were pulled out. The colorful sights and tantalizing smells made bellies growl and dry mouths water.
Kat and I were not on speaking terms since our earlier episode; hence, we dined at opposite ends of the fire-lit dinner table. Twenty-five villagers, all of them female, sat to eat, waiting for Madam B to speak from her privileged position at the head of the table. When that rough woman eventually rose, she cast her eyes and smiles over all present. "As you know, ladies, we have two guests with us tonight. Daniel Fox, and his samurai, who needs no introduction. We have all been enthralled by your story at one time or another, Kat."
The women graciously glanced, and I returned a smile. Kat did not.
"We hope you enjoy the meal," B concluded, "and our company, gentlemen." The beaten up old woman then gave a consenting wave, permission to tuck in.
I was pleasantly surprised that we were not left waiting for prayer or some other ritual beforehand. I snapped a leg of chicken from that tray, scooped a generous helping of potatoes from another one, and ate.
After moments of ravenous chewing, I became aware of something very unusual. A delicious feast for the eyes this food was, but not for the palate. The same taste filled my mouth with every bite — it was a mash of sandy wood, poisoning everything from the bread to the soup. I coughed out that gunk coating the back of my mouth and heard further giggles from women around me.
"I'm not getting used to it Kat," I said, from across the table. "I'm really not!"
Kat didn't pay me any mind, and eventually the hunger pains in my stomach cancelled out the bitter taste on my tongue. I ate all I could, and although it was foul, it at least gave me energy and that satisfying feeling of having a full stomach. The pretty blonde-haired woman, Madam L, did not look at me once during the meal, and whenever I caught her eye, she would shy it to a table or plate, anywhere but me.
Kat's manners or lack of kept me amused throughout dinner. With no class or etiquette whatsoever, the man snatched large handfuls of food and scarfed; grunting snorts and lingering burps, he chewed with his mouth open and then swilled back goblets of wine to see it all down, and the unfortunate woman seated next to him clearly wished she wasn't.
When most were through eating, I drank wine whilst women chatted amongst themselves about the weather, the harvest, and other things that didn't interest me. What I cared about was my curiosity, and now that my hunger was satisfied, I might as well see to the other. "I saw the white house earlier," I began, scratching at my chin. "I was wondering who lived there? Anyone?"
"A newly built home, Mr. Fox," answered Madam B. "In time, we hope to have one for each of the women here. They deserve it."
I returned a nod, aware that she did not answer my question: Who lived there?
"Tell me," I added, without care; "are you all named with letters? A little strange, don't you think? I mean there's only so many letters in the alphabet." I saw agreeing expressions from some, but anxiety from most. "Is there a Madam A?" I continued, the question causing one girl to go into a sudden fit of choking. The woman seated next to her promptly patted several times on this girl's back. Not a moment later, she spat out a piece of doe from her throat, and we all breathed again.
"The bread is a little tough tonight," said Madam B, wearing a cool demeanor toward my inquisitiveness. "Madam A is gone, Mr. Fox. The second death, I'm sure you're aware of that.”
“What happened?”
“Poor thing,” B replied. “She became too old to protect the women, and too weak to protect herself."
"Too old to protect the women, eh?” I said, trying to be clever. “Or maybe too old to have children?"
My comment caused even Kat to stop chewing, and the entire table peered at me with expressions of surprise and horror. In a matter of seconds, a moderately pleasant atmosphere had now disintegrated into tetchy and uncomfortable silence. Madam B's smile was gone, her pretence and patience were slipping. "When will you be leaving, gentlemen?" she asked.
I waited for Kat to answer, for only he knew it. "In the morning," he grunted. "For the Macros."
"So soon?" one girl added. "Shame."
That synthetic tone agitated me. It was worse when I saw every face wearing that same mask.
"It will be a daunting climb," said Madam B. "Not many travel up the slope of the Macros, and those who do…never come back."
The danger welcomed, Kat grinned behind handfuls of stale bread.
"What's your business up there?" asked L, resulting in the immediate glares from her fellow villagers. The question was innocent, but L hastily withdrew it, and I cringed, watching her feel the lashes under her clothing.
"What's wrong?" I asked her. "Everything okay?"
She parted the tangled hair away from her eyes and dimly smiled back. "Good, mister. Fine, mister."
"She's healthy, Mr. Fox," added Madam B. "Now, you have inquired about us, you've accepted our hospitality, and eaten your fill. Tell us about yourself. We women would like to hear more. Have you ever climbed before? There's a good start!"
"I've never climbed," I answered, thinking it wise not to press more attention onto L. "In my day, I'd use a car for the steeper hills."
"Car?" pried a puzzled-looking brunette.
"Like a horseless wagon,” I explained, forgetting that some if not all of these women passed long before the invention of the automobile. “It's got four wheels and an engine to power it."
"Sounds complicated!" said Madam B, to further snickering.
"There are harder things in life, I guess. A friend once told me that the world is made up of tiny miracles. Now, you take a whole village, and all the women pregnant, that's a lot of miracles to go around. Wouldn't you say?"
"We are blessed!" said Madam B. "Mysterious fate has brought us women together to bear our children. Here we are, safe and happy in that endeavor. Do you have children of your own, Mr. Fox?"
All of a sudden, I was mentally pulled out of this murky village and myself. No dizzy spell from a returning migraine, this was something deeper, like a blood illness. I was dumbstruck by a question I could not remember, and as these women awaited my answer, I could only stare at the empty dinner plate under my nose.
"Are you well, Mr. Fox? Mr. Fox?"
I held a blink and the image of Kathy for several seconds before hauling my mind back out from its unmarked well. "Fine," I returned, hollow-faced. "I'm fine. Thank you for the meal." I dropped my fork with a clang; dinner was over. Two women removed my plate, and as they waited for Kat to finish, I attempted to regain my mental place before an odd moment washed me over with amnesia.
The head instantly returned to my shoulders upon witnessing Madam B bend and whisper into L's ear. Something short and to the point was said, something that delicate silly girl did not ever want to hear.
"Madam B?" I grumbled. "This village is the safest place in the Distinct Earth, why is that? I see no men to ward off trouble. Or am I…being sexist?"
"You're being something!" blurted one.
"Your attitude is prehistoric," said Madam B, composed. "We women are quite capable of handling trouble, whatever form trouble takes. Men allow emotions to rule them; their presence here would only disrupt the balance. It's my job to keep the continuity, and we don't need men to maintain that."
"So?" I asked, suppressing a laugh. "How the hell do you get pregnant?"
Like a game of tennis, all eyes followed the ball back to Madam B, but I spoke before she could return it. "Pardon me, ladies, please. I do appreciate your hospitality, and I am not saying you need men, it's just that I see vulnerable, pregnant women here with no obvious fence or defenses around their village. Surely, in a realm like this one it would be wise to be prepared for danger? Alert at least, for your babies’ sake?"
Still indifferent, Kat continued shoveling food into his mouth. Perhaps he already knew these answers.
"No one would dare hurt us!" stirred the passionate redhead. "They wouldn't dare it!"
"Why not?" I pressed her. "What's so special about you?"
Madam B's mask was gone, leaving an ugly frown for a face. "You may not see our defenses," she cried, "but they do exist! We are a peaceful community, Mr. Fox; we do not cause trouble and we do not seek it. Most wander the Distinct Earth with no purpose, but here everyone has a purpose, and everybody is safe!"
"Safe?" I mocked. "You lash the shit out of these women and call that safe? What if a wizard were to enter your village, bog pigs, flying birds, or Christ knows fucking what else!"
"You've said enough!" exclaimed Madam B, seething. "We no longer wish to spend time in your company! The sensible thing would be to return to your bed and lock yourself there till morning…that would be the sensible thing."
Insolently, I knocked any nearby goblets or plates aside. "I've been threatened before lady, and candy coated or not, they all sound the same to me! Just what the fuck is going on here? Stop the charade, cause it's making me sick, or is that the meal I just forced into my stomach?"
Consenting disgust filled the air, and all of the women, L included, left the table in a hurry. "How about some honesty?" I yelled at their backs. "What are you crazy people hiding?"
Approaching Kat, a hot-faced Madam B was the last of them left at a table of dirty plates. "A length of rope seems to have gone missing from the supply shed, samurai. Sometime today, in fact. Have you come across it on your wanderings at all?"
Kat shook his head at her question or accusation, and Madam B wished him a pleasant night, but only him. Finally finished with his food, the samurai slid an empty plate to one side and scowled my way.
"What?" I shrugged. "Can't I get a straight answer?"
"Can't you shut your mouth?”