Helga: Out of Hedgelands, Rick Johnson [suggested reading txt] 📗

“I’ve heard of them,” Annie observed. “They’re fierce warriors. I’ve encountered their soldiers. They have legions stationed throughout the northern foothills of the Don’ot Stumb Mountains. You can’t move in that area without running into their scouts and picket lines. They’re a fearsome lot. No enemy would dare mess with their Battle Stallions and Club Wolves,” she concluded.

“What are they afraid of?” Breister asked. “There’s never been war that I’ve ever heard of,” he continued. “Who needs Battle Stallions and Club Wolves?” He looked at Annie. “There are some pesky bandits around that do some raiding and plundering, but you don’t need an army for that.”

“I hear rumors that we don’t see the half of it,” Toshty replied. “No one knows much about the Norder Wolves. They keep to themselves. But I hear stories that we only see the ranks of their army in training down this way. They use the peaceable frontier to train new recruits for their legions. It’s a mystery why they need an army. When I come through the Ocean of Dreams I just avoid messing with their sentry boat. That’s all I want, or need, to know about the Norder Wolves. If you know how to handle the sentries, you’ll be O.K. You don’t make them suspicious and they won’t bother you. They aren’t aggressive, but they are nasty as can be if they think you’re trying to enter their lands.”

“OK...” Breister said slowly. “So we just say, ‘Hello, and Good Day,’ to the nice little Club Wolves and go on, huh?”

“Oh, no,” Toshty said seriously, “we want to answer them precisely. There’s a certain pattern of response they expect. If you don’t know the words they want to hear, they know you’re a stranger. That makes them instantly suspicious. When we run into a sentry, let me do all the talking.” The Norder Wolf commander in the Ocean of Dreams is a Colonel Snart—he’s nicknamed ‘Scream-seller Snart’ because they say he’s got a sideline in smuggling and slaving. If we encounter a Norder Wolf patrol boat, say nothing and let me handle it. Hope they won’t take us to Commander Snart. If we go to him, no one will see us again. We’ll be sold as slaves and that will be the end of us.”

“Well, thanks, Toshty,” Annie said, with a wry smile, “you’ve invited us on such a pleasant little voyage!”

“Oh, don’t mention it,” Toshty replied. “I’ve made this trip dozens of times. It’s not bad if you know the way.” Breister and Annie shook their heads, hoping that this crazy old Owl did, indeed, know the way.

“Here,” Toshty said, offering the remaining honeycomb and cave bird eggs. “This is the last chance we have to eat until the Ocean of Dreams. The ride is too wild for eating until then.”

Breister and Annie both declined. “I have a feeling that a full stomach wouldn’t be full very long on this trip,” Breister grinned.

“I think I’ll fast, thanks.” Annie agreed.

“Well, O.K.,” Toshty responded. “If you insist, I’ll be glad to eat your provisions!” He stuffed his mouth happily, smearing honey and egg yolk all over his cheeks in his gleeful snacking. “You’ll feel more like eating next trip,” Toshty said, as if such a promise would make his friends happier.

“One trip at a time, Toshty,” Annie replied. “One trip at a time.”

When Toshty had finished eating, the three friends walked the rest of the way to the ledge overlooking the river. They unrolled the bladder-canoe and took turns blowing to inflate it for use. Then they securely stowed all their gear, tying it down in well oiled satchels to keep things dry. Toshty connected the launch rope to a special pulley he had rigged up, directing his friends to put in their earplugs and position themselves in the boat.

“Here we go!” Toshty signaled, beginning to pull on the rope. Pulling together, the canoe inched toward the edge of the ledge. One pull. Two pulls. Three pulls. On the seventh pull, the boat fell free of the ledge and plummeted 20 or 30 feet to the river below. SPLOOOSH! ZING! They were off!

Breister and Annie, despite their earlier adventures and courageous natures, battled against panic. The river roared in their ears, and the earplugs were nearly useless. Gradually, however, their panic subsided. Although the canoe plunged and bucked with dizzying motion, they soon realized that the canoe would not capsize. The surging river carried them down the perfectly smooth rock tube, with a surprisingly small amount of water sloshing in the bottom of the canoe.

Hours passed and exhaustion eventually overwhelmed panic and excitement. Breister and Annie fell into fitful sleep, unable to completely forget their troubles and fears. Toshty slept like a baby.

At last, Toshty’s voice called to them, as if out of some hazy distant place in their dreams. “Wake up, you landlubbers! It’s time to sail on the Ocean of Dreams!”

The raging river had now flowed into a large, calmer body of water. The three friends sat up. Toshty unpacked the fish-oil lanterns and lit them. He directed Annie to light another and, in the warm glow of both lamps, they could see their surroundings somewhat.

Fantastic rock formations rose all around them. The light of their lanterns illumined the shapes, making them cast weird flickering shadows. The lake actually flowed around the rocks as if there was a fantastic range of mountains rising from the lake. Paddling skillfully, Toshty piloted the canoe in and out around the formations. How he knew the way, Breister could not guess. Breister was astonished that some of the forms looked exactly like dreams he remembered from his periods of sleep coming down the river, and even far in his past.

“These are the dreams and nightmares of my life!” Breister gasped, looking at Annie. She was turning her head slowly, looking around at the rocks. Her face showed a mixture of emotions: surprise, uncertainty, awe, fear. Breister recognized the same feelings in himself. A particular formation and its shadows would seem similar to a dream Breister had once had, and that memory would trigger new images among other shapes and shadows. It was a strangely beautiful and wonderful experience, but at the same time unsettling.

“The more I see, the more I think I see!” Annie said. “It’s as if shapes and shadows trigger memories of dreams, and memories make me think I see more images!”

“And dream follows dream,” Breister replied in amazement. “It’s as if we’re moving in a dreamworld where the real and the unreal play with each other...”

As they paddled along in their surreal surroundings, here and there small painted boards were stuck up on the rocks to give directions. Some signs were warnings: “NO PASSAGE WELCOMED!” Toshty explained that these were posted by the Norder Wolves to warn the curious and lost away.

Paddling through the Ocean of Dreams, gradually the rumble of the river was left behind and the eerie stillness of the great underground returned. They heard few sounds except the periodic sound of cave birds flitting about somewhere in the darkness and the soft splash of their paddles, until a voice called out: “Hullo, my frippers! What’s the lark?”

Toshty, instantly alert, answered the inquiry, addressing a large Wolf wearing a heavy leather and iron uniform. The Wolf was floating nearby in a rowboat. “Stay there, friend,” he replied, “we are friendly frippers taking a lark to the Rounds. No cargo, no weapons, no money.”

The Wolf, armed with an immense club, had a snub-nosed, flat-browed face that made him look dangerous. But he also had a strangely friendly manner about him. His ill-fitting uniform, and small red eyes peering through spectacles, made him seem more interesting than threatening. A leather helmet, perched precariously on his head, and tilting so badly over his left ear that it threatened to fall off at any moment, only added to this effect.

“Hullo, my frippers! What’s for grubstake?”

“No eggs, no honey, no dried fish,” Toshty replied. He obviously knew the routine.

“Hullo, my frippers! What’s the game?” the Wolf asked.

Toshty replied once again, this time with a strange look of steely courage in his eye, “No stopping, no more questions, no more answers.”

The Wolf scowled at the three friends, staring at them over the top of his spectacles. After a long moment, during which Breister and Annie sensed a tense nervousness in Toshty, the Wolf said: “Forget the way, frippers! Stay away!”

Toshty, letting out a slow breath of relief, began paddling again, guiding the canoe near the Wolf’s rowboat. Reaching in his pocket he pulled out a small package and tossed it to the Wolf. “I forget your face, I forget the place, nevermore to talk of it!” he called out to the Wolf as they passed on in the direction they had been going.

“What was that all about?” Annie asked quietly when she thought they had paddled far enough to be out of the Wolf’s hearing.

“The sentries always ask the same questions,” Toshty replied. “If you don’t know the answers they expect, they will haul you in to see Colonel Snart. If they’re in a good mood and you give the right answers, they let you pass. We were lucky that time. It was a new recruit. The young ones are lonely. It’s usually their first time away from home. And they’re assigned to one of the most lonely, forsaken posts imaginable. If they let you pass, you have to promise them that you won’t tell anyone they let you by. I gave him a pack of pine sap gum. It helps. He’ll tell the other sentries. They get to know me and let me pass. But it’s always a little tense when I meet a new sentry for the first time. There are some bad ones.”

“You go through this on every trip down the river?” Breister asked in admiration of Toshty’s courage.

“Yes.”

“Ever feel frightened?”

“I suppose if I thought about it—which I don’t.” Toshty said with a grin. Then he turned serious. “But I don’t take it lightly, either. It’s no joke. You get the wrong sentry and all the pine sap gum in the world won’t save you. They’ll have you in chains and hanging by your feet before Scream-seller Snart so fast your head will swim.”

“It really puzzles me why the Norder Wolves would assign a mental case as commander down here,” Annie said. “I just don’t get it. He sounds like a bandit.”

“Oh, no,” Toshty replied. “Scream-seller Snart makes your average run-of-the-mill thug look like a garden club member. But that’s why they want him here. He scares everybody off. He’s ‘solid gold’ security-wise, and...”

“And what?” Breister asked.

“And if everyone is afraid to go near Colonel Snart’s zone, he gets to run his smuggling and slave trade, no questions asked.”

“How do you know about that?” Annie said.

 “I hear things. I see things. I hear that he’s in league with some beasts in the Hedgelands. Creatures disappear up there sometimes, don’t they?” he asked, looking at Breister.

“Yes,” Breister replied slowly as his mind raced. New images crowded into his sight among the rocks and shadows. Terrifying images of a Wood Cow family in chains...Their house a shambles...“By the Ancient Ones!” Breister exclaimed.

“What?” Annie said, looking at him.

“I’m seeing images in the formations,” Breister breathed softly. “Images of our family being driven from our home by slavers. Helga does not remember what happened exactly, but somehow we were separated and she and my wife escaped. We don’t know what happened to my wife. Helga told me she has nightmares sometimes, but she does not remember everything that happened.”

The friends were silent for a time.

“Toshty,” Breister began. His face was drawn with