Vale

Chapter 8

            I secure the entrance to make sure we get a warning in case anyone comes back looking for us then get back to Cephas whom I left thrown over the couch. Even with one leg pulled up and the other hanging off the side he's vastly oversized for the furniture.

        Portia brings out some herbs and medication on a tray with three cups of tea, then sits in one of the armchairs. The windowless house feels so much smaller now that our presence has been revealed.

        Tearing the leg of his pants apart, I grab Cephas' ankle and with one pull I place the two halves of his shinbone back together; he bites down on his hand to hold back a cry of agony.

        "Hmm, be glad they only broke it in half," Portia says and takes a sip of her tea. "Last time I was in the hands of bandits they bludgeoned my kneecap into tiny pieces!"

        I cover the swelling with clean bandages we've been provided that I soak in an herb solution, then make Cephas chew on a capsule of painkiller. As soon as the chemicals start taking effect he throws his head back and lets out a lengthy moan.

        I reach for my tea but don't speak. I could talk in a changed voice and an accent but listening and looking at this woman right now I'm not even sure that'd have any use.

        "Don't you get me wrong, the two of you!" Portia swings her pointing finger in the air. "I'm mad as hell that you collapsed my neighbourhood. This street is historical! The whole of shanty town is. The commoners and the high folks always think the bay and the main square were built first because it's closest to the water. No, my darling, not at all! The shanty town was where it began.

        "Poor sailors, pursued by the eyes of the law, they would want to hide as far in the hills as possible. It was a whole forested area as far as the eye could see. The Near Woods, they called it back then..." She pauses. Nods for several seconds as though she's making sure she remembers every detail of the story before she begins. "This side of the island and the over side... there was no mountain cut in half like they write it in the books. Simple landslides, then fancy masonry. Once the hills got overpopulated and the forests all cut down, they could see the danger was gone... they weren't important enough for the mainlanders anymore to starve out or to attack. They had better things to do, bigger criminals to catch, maybe an epidemic of their own to fight.

        "So they built a pretty castle, a pretty statue in the middle of downtown, called it high castle and lower castle, and the gem of Caelmoor. Do you even know what Caelmoor stands for?"

        I almost blurt out the answer then remind myself that I mustn't give away my voice.

        "That!" Portia shakes her right fist now and slaps it twice with the palm of her left. "The hand's heavy work! High castle the wart on my left asscheek!"

        Cephas snorts out loud but he keeps snoring lightly.

        "The hand's heavy work was the town our ancestors built, the shanty town itself. Those shiny boots with their ruffs and their crowns ain't ever laid a single brick down. They called on the humble folk of the hills to do it for them. Humble folk built the shanty town and humble folk built the High Castle for the lords to live in. Don't you ever be forgettin' that because I damn well ain't. And I won't be forgetting who the lords left to die first either."  

        I nervously shuffle and take a sip of my tea. Dogberry. I'd rather swallow glass but I finish it anyway.

        "You, my child," Portia extends her hands towards me and nods, or rather her head just shakes involuntarily. "You seem like you've been treading the lands of Caelmoor all over. You've seen what's coming, haven't ya?"