The Forest

By Sean Matthew Edge

Prologue

The television screen was blank. Why was the television blank? Michael flipped channels trying to find any information. Nothing. He switched to the internet setting and attempted to load the BBC web site. Nothing once more. Nothing would load. “Radio.” He muttered to himself. He stood and rushed from his sitting room to his bedroom and removed his old dial radio. He plugged it in and fiddled with the dials. Static. Then quite suddenly a voice, “....to the nearest major city!” Michael frowned in consternation and waited, “This is the emergency broadcast system. All citizens are required to travel to the nearest major city for protection. These cities are; London, Portsmouth, Exeter, Birmingham, Nottingham, Sheffield, Liverpool, Manchester, Leeds, Blackpool, York, Middlesbrough, Newcastle, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Aberdeen, Inverness Cardiff, Swansea and Belfast. Repeat, all citizens and required to travel to the nearest major city!”

Michael grimaced. “Fuckin’ hell!” he stood and ran back into his room to pack some essentials. As he did so he attempted to phone his mother and father. No cellular signal either. “Fuck!” he yelled. He had watched, along with the rest of the world, with bated breath as the president of the United States of America had pronounced that if the Chinese and Russian governments did not fall back from their advancement on the European nations then there would be no other option than war. This had been screened worldwide on every television channel and the response was simple. Russia and China continued their military advancement. That had been the previous night. The next morning all technology was useless except for the archaic.

“Shit! Fuck! Shit!” He muttered as he grabbed his car keys and exited his home. He stopped as he closed his door and stared at the street before him. Empty. Obviously everyone else had heard before him and fled to Leeds. He lived only a short distance away in Pudsey, a town on the outskirts of Leeds itself. Rapidly he climbed into his car and started the engine. He drove through the quiet streets and signalled to no one as he turned onto a slip road that led to the Leeds ring road. There were other commuters but not many. All were rushing for the city itself. Michael glanced at the clock, 13:43, how long had the message been playing. He’d been out for a drink with friends before the American announcement had been made, they heard about it in his local pub, The Golden Lion. One of the other regulars had received a phone call from his family and he informed the rest of the drinkers of the news. The TV had been switched on and all listened and watched in astonishment. The pub closed late with all the conversations turning to the ridiculousness of it all. Michael had woken late.

As he sped along the motorway he paid little attention to the many speed cameras. He gazed about himself and bore witness to people sprinting from shops along streets carrying groceries. He proceeded in the direction of Leeds city centre and came to a halt, traffic sat before him unmoving. Military personnel and police officers were walking from car to car, as they did so people left their vehicles and hurried towards the city. Michael scrambled from his car and walked swiftly in the same direction. He passed a police officer who was instructing an elderly couple, “but we can’t walk all that bloody way, my wife’s disabled!” he heard the older man ranting, his accent was Southern and Michael recognised the pair as grandparents of one of his former driving pupils. He approached, “it’s all right Bill,” he announced himself. “I’ll help you.” The old man recognised him and heaved a sigh of frustration. The police officer turned to face him, “do you know this man sir?” she enquired, “yeah, I’ll help ‘em get t’town.” Michael responded. “Thank you. Go with this man please sir.” She instructed the elder of the pair. Michael took hold of the elderly woman’s arm and the three progressed slowly along the gridlocked road.

For several minutes they walked. Michael listened patiently to Bill’s worries about his son and daughter. “They’ll be all right Peg, Pete’s in Manchester and Siobhan’s gone to York.” The man’s wife was worried and tearful. “What about Sean?” she asked. “He’s all the way in bloody Egypt isn’t he, there’s nothing we can do.” Michael frowned with worry at the pair and then thought about his own family, hoping to see them in the city. Eventually they made their way past military blockades and across a border that had been cordoned around the entire city by the army and the police. The streets were filled with terrified people. Loud speakers had been erected and instructions were piped through. “Please remain calm. You are well protected here. There are medical centres and food supplies based in Millennium Square. Please remain calm!” Michael sat the elderly pair on a low wall and left them to search for his own family. He checked the time on his watch, 14:50. He mumbled to himself and moved through the crowds towards the Leeds council buildings. As he did so a new message poured from the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, you are all safe within the city borders. A new technology has been set in place to shield the cities from any attack, if any should come. You are safe!” The voice seemed authoritative but pleading all at once. One spark and the entire population of greater Leeds would erupt.

Michael reached the food supply area and scanned the lines for his family or friends. His brow furrowed as the day light became suddenly brighter and strangely green. He and every other person turned in unison to witness a wall of glowing green light sprout from the ground and curve away, covering the outlying regions of city and the countryside in a fluorescent shield. The city itself was enclosed by nothing but sky and a stunned silence. All at once a small orange light was spotted amongst the clouds, approaching the city. “Oh God!” a scream emanated from the bewildered audience. Just as quickly as it had been sighted it disappeared in a flash of blinding white. The city and all of its inhabitants evaporated in an instant of searing heat.

Miles away, on the outskirts of the city of Birmingham a white house sat unscathed as it was protected by the green shielding it had developed for the protection of the world around it. The sentient intelligence that governed the facility scanned the entire country and found that every major city had been obliterated along with all power stations and military installations. Nothing remained of the infrastructure of the country that had once been the United Kingdom of Great Britain. The population had been decimated. The intelligence then scanned the land mass of Europe which it had also been tasked with protecting. The same was true of those nations. It widened its field and noted that the continent of North America as well as the whole of China and Russia were smouldering ruins. Every economic and industrial power in the world had collapsed. The human population had fallen from over eight billion to just under one billion. The time this had taken was little over an hour but the time it would take to rebuild would be millennia.

It began.

Part 1

1

The woman in white strode with the confidence of an elephant amongst ants. Swathes of city folk parted as she progressed along streets and paths layered with excrement and decay. The city of Blackness heaved with the sounds of trade and stank with the multitudes of serf that bustled back and forth carrying out errands for their masters. All slowed their pace or stopped to watch as this ghostly figure made her way towards the ancient castle that looked out into the bay. Many whispered their misgivings at her presence but none spoke directly to her. “The witch! Watch her!” they would mutter. Children were pulled from her path but she paid them no heed. In bright contrast to their drab attire she wore all white clothing. A Flat and perfect smock that buttoned from the front and fell to her knees, white trousers, equally as smooth and perfect. The only colour that scathed her immaculate surface was composed of the effluence, which she could not avoid, splattered around the soles of her white shoes. These aspects were not those that proved to the onlookers that she was a supernatural creature. Her extreme outlandishness was completed by her unspoiled complexion and flawless, red hair that flowed down her back and framed her impeccable face. Her eyes were the singular piercing element that caused fear to ripple through the throng. Green as an emerald with flecks of amber, they seemed to penetrate the minds and souls of all that caught her gaze.

She continued her way and reached the castle barriers, constructed of wooden shafts and metal panelling, they seemed to pay homage to a time now long forgotten by all except the woman herself. She scanned them and noted with vague interest that they had been constructed in the fashion of ancient police barriers. Sheet metal gates swung open before her and she entered the castle keep of Lord M’lochart, First Lord of the Scotlands.

The whispers spread through the serf-folk as if spoken by the wind, the Lord of the Scotlands demanded blond children, all the blond children of England, be sent to him and anything the Scottish Lord wished to possess, he attained. This was not much of a problem for the majority of the serfdom, for blond hair was not simply rare, it was almost non-existent, but it did exist, somewhere.

That somewhere included Chalford, a very small village south of the Great Forest, its only reason for existence was wheat, which was grown yearly and gifted to the Magistrate of Oxford, the first city of the South. Very little remained of the historic town, replaced now by a small village that sits north of an ancient road that some say once lead to the largest city in England, now it takes any who might travel upon it, North West to Stroud and East to the larger town of Cirencester. The modern village of Chalford would be dwarfed by its historic counterpart whose remains are now covered by farm land; the village population rests at just over one hundred, all of whom are serf to the Oxford magistrate. Word had it that horsemen were riding throughout the region calling for all fair haired children, though many were not truly blond they would be sent as gifts to the Scots lord in hopes that he would grant a boon of water to England.

Naturally the news was not met well, terrified parents were hiding their children or attempting to dye their hair in order to evade detection but the horsemen were unscrupulous in their methods, and would kill any serf thought to be hiding a child.

Chalford contained only a few families, all of whom had children, and their fear was tangible, for the horsemen would certainly hear of the Cutters, a large family of the town, with five children they were a respected and much loved part of the small society. The problem was simple; all of them, to the youngest had thick, almost white hair.

They sat around a large hearth fire in the centre of the village green, mothers holding children, talking to one another about the week’s events while the men spoke quickly and quietly to each other, shooting harried glances at their wives. The town elders formed a smaller circle, closer to the fire, keeping warm and forming decisions, after more than two hours Enrin Ricker, the youngest of the elders stood and raised her hands to quiet the town’s folk.

The voices hushed and all turned to watch her as she scanned their faces, smiling at the children and glancing sadly at the parents. Not a tall women, she seemed large through pride and self-respect, her grey hair cut short above her ears, and her smooth almost ghostlike skin gave her a holy appearance, though none now lived who had even heard of saints.

Despite these attributes she was not a popular woman; “The decision has been made”, she spoke softly and sweetly and above all patronizingly to the waiting crowd, “the Cutter children will be handed to the horsemen along with a bushel of wheat” she stood immune to the gasps from the watching mothers and continued, “this, we are sure, will secure the safety of the rest of our children.” She smiled as the gathered parents glanced guiltily at the Cutters, knowing that they would not disagree, for who would allow their own families to be separated or killed when others could be sacrificed?

“You can’t!” shouted Tish Cutter, the father of the family, “You can’t take our kids from us” he looked beseechingly at his audience, but they all, save for Enrin, averted their eyes from his. “We understand your distress” she cooed, “but it is for the greater good of the village”, some murmurs of consent rose from the crowd. “Good” she thought, “they can take his children, they aren’t taking mine”, vindictive these thoughts may be, but they were echoed in the minds of many in the village that night.

Tish stood dumbstruck, his blue eyes beginning to well with tears, rage quaking in his stomach. He was large, over six foot tall and well built, his work had seen to that, but one man could not fight the entire town, he would stand his ground and battle, as was his duty but he would fail and he knew it. Tightening his grip on his cane, which he had brought expecting need of it, he waited for their move but none came.

“We cannot do that Enrin”, a voice sprang from the crowd; as they twisted to reveal the speaker Tish stared in disbelief, hope forcing his heart to quicken. A slim man stood, his dark eyes fixed on those of Enrin Ricker, he had thinning brown hair, thick stubble around his face and wore simple serf clothing like all the rest, but he was not a simple man, if the town would have a leader, he was that.

“There is no other choice Teneth,” Enrin responded, keeping her cool whilst screaming profanities within her soul, “if we do not give them the Cutter children then they will take ours, the council has spoken.” She spoke with what she hoped was authority, the rest of the town elders sat behind her, she knew that they were not happy about the decision and would take any other if one arose.

“I don’t care if the council has spoken.” Teneth spat his response; he did not have to act his strength of will or distaste for the woman he faced. “They do not speak for me, and they will not speak for my family.” His eyes met hers and she faltered, this was not missed by the surrounding party. He walked forwards into the centre of the meeting, and glanced around at all those gathered; “We will not harbour the guilt of sending another family’s children to slavery or worse, and I won’t be handed cowardice because Enrin Ricker wants it so.” He glared at her with malice and she stepped away, shaking her head with false disappointment.

Teneth continued, addressing the crowd and the council of elders as one, “there is another option, we hide all but the dark haired children and tell the horsemen that all the rest died in the drought of last season and the winter this year.” He looked triumphant at them, but he also knew that this plan would fail, it made the village feel braver and happier than the previous idea, but it was a foolish notion to believe that the horsemen would fall for their ruse.

“Ai!” they chorused as one, preferring to feel righteous than guilty, “hide them when the horsemen come, then when they’re gone we can go on with our business” said Tam Winshon in a clear voice over the crowd. He was one of the eldest of the council and looked as though death embraced him even as he spoke. “Sounds good enough to me” he smiled at Teneth and hobbled on past Enrin Ricker without a glance.

“But it cannot work!” she cried as everyone began to disperse, “you know this to be true Teneth Lang” she pleaded with him, “they’ll kill us all for trying it” she hissed as he stared coldly at her. Paying not a second glance he strode past her and off with his family, he had won this battle against her, but he also knew that she spoke the truth, soon perhaps they would die to save children not their own, he held his eldest son to him tightly, looking ahead so that his fear was hidden by the night, he hoped with all his heart that his heir had learned one lesson that day, that hard decisions come with a price, but the price of honour is higher still.

To the south in the town of Nailsworth figures could be seen riding on horseback, advancing through the smoke they had created by burning three of the town’s larger homes to the ground, upon their steeds they carried the limp bodies of young fair children attained and subdued after they had been hidden by their freshly slaughtered parents. Town’s folk ran incensed, screaming at the sky as their legs pumped to escape their tormentors, the cries of children rose from houses, quickly stifled by their parents, they were not missed by the horsemen.

Seated atop the largest horse was the Captain of the Magistrate Horse Guard, his bold manner and dark brow cast an ice tipped glance in the direction of one hovel from whence a child’s cries came. He turned his steed and approached the shuttered doors of the ramshackle hut, looking with distain upon the surroundings he reigned in his horse, which kicked heavily at the wooden slates.

They splintered immediately and sent shards and shrapnel in every direction, the occupants of the home whimpered and scuttled towards the back wall of their abode.

“Where are the children?” He hissed his words at them as though speaking to scum lesser in worth than the town’s dogs, and to him they were.

“She’s, she’s not blond!” whined the female in response, groping at her husband, they were both beyond terror, willing him with the fibres of their very souls to believe. Dismounting, he strode before them, removing his helmet to reveal his face; he crouched and looked directly into the mother’s eyes. He was a tall and powerfully built man, with light brown, short cut hair, grey eyes and a noble face, stubble crossed his cheeks and chin and the ravages of a career of military service weighed heavily about him. Still he did not look an evil man, evil to him was a state of mind that good men could take at times of need, he hated his career and hated the directions it had forced him to take, but more than all this he hated the serf scum that made his every waking hour so much harder, evil was a necessary.

“Lady I care not if she is bald and black, I would have you reveal your child to me this instant” he spoke softly to her, which made her less mad with fear and the more with idiocy.

Smiling slightly she shuffled towards the single bed of the home, revealing the hay bedding under the sheets, she brushed some away and gently pulled out a very small girl, dark brown ringlets framing her face, which was red with tears.

Staring intently at the two he spoke once more, “gentle mother, you are correct, she is neither blond nor fair, I have no need of her.” She smiled widely at him, relieved that he had spoken so, while her husband only sat dumb struck at the unfurling scene. “However it appears that she in fact has no need of you, a woman so inane as to willingly reveal her own child” he spoke slowly and controlled, allowing his words to penetrate her mind, within that same instant of realisation he penetrated her throat with his blade, let her body shake its death and then drop. The child wailed as the father screamed, all the while the Captain walked calmly from the hut and back to his stead.

As he approached his squad he listened with almost preternatural hearing to the speeding steps behind him, as they grew closer he calmly unsheathed his sword, twisted in his seat and thrust downwards through the husband’s skull, killing him instantly. Then looking down towards the serf’s hands he noted with interest that the man had intended to attack with nought but a knife, had it not been for the crumpled corpse he would have found the situation comical. He returned to his men and rode onwards; word had reached his ear of a town named Chalford and of a blond farm trader named Cutter.

Teneth lay next to his wife listening to her breath as she slept, he could clearly hear his slumbering children below them, dormant upon their mats. “What will happen?” He thought to himself as his wife turned in her sleep, “when the horsemen come they’ll destroy the entire town not simply to find the children but to kill all those who oppose them as well.”

As he lay his mind began to formulate a plan, “it could work” he whispered to himself in the dark. “Yes, it could work.”

That morning he walked along the paths, nodding at the local traders as he passed, the entire town would need to agree to his plan, first there was Tish Cutter, as it was his family after all, secondly Enrin Ricker would have to agree, he could have no possibility of any one informing the horsemen or not sticking to the story. He frowned as he approached the Cutter’s dwelling, it was a small hut built of wood and mud as were many in the town, they did not own much and the little income they gained came through Tish Cutter’s trading skins and hides in the towns and neighbouring villages.

This would not be an easy task to accomplish, but Tish would have to agree, “Tish Cutter!” he called as he grew closer to the hut, the tall man appeared from within, smiling broadly at Teneth his face darkened to match that of the smaller man.

“What is it Teneth?” Tish queried as they drew next to each other, “you look as if the world were coming to an end my friend”, he continued as he placed his hand on Teneth’s shoulder.

“It may be that for you lest we agree upon my scheme” the smaller man responded looking directly into the grey eyes of his compatriot, “Tish, we’ll need to destroy your home and land” he spoke bluntly as the other man’s frown became a scowl.

“No, I don’t see why we need resort to this brash action” Enrin Ricker sat, smiling slightly as she responded to Teneth’s plan, the town had been gathered to consider the idea which was simple, destroy the Cutter’s home and lands, hide the family in neighbouring homes and tell the riders that they had been run out of the village days before in fear that they would bring trouble.

Tish Cutter and his wife had agreed and a few in the town gave their consent to let members of the Cutters stay with them, however it was necessary to get the elders on board. “Why should we place ourselves and our families in danger?” She continued, paying no heed to the frowns and glowers of Tish and his wife.

“What do the rest of the elders think?” she turned to the aged men and women seated around her, Tam Winshon shuffled on his stool before he spoke, placing his hands palm down over his knees and leaning forwards so as to be heard, “In part I agree with Enrin, we would all be placing our lives in danger by harbouring the family,” he looked around at his audience, many of whom had declined Teneth’s plea, but they were interspersed with others who had not, Enrin sat gloating to herself. “However” he continued “the fact is that we made our choice at the last meeting, and some have accepted to take in the family members so we will go with Teneth’s plan.” Enrin’s face fell, she stared at Tam with pure rage “your kindness will be the death of us” she snarled before she raised herself and stalked away from the crowds.

Teneth watched her go with some satisfaction, however he did not like the idea that she retained distaste towards the plan, he didn’t trust her but there was little he could do about that, now he had to set the rest of the town’s folk to task, “ok!” he called out “we don’t know when the horsemen will come, so we cannot afford to wait,” he scanned the assembly and continued, “I will take Tish and three of his children into my home, Kasha and the last two will go to stay with Vars and Dana Miln at their home” he nodded at a couple at the head of the crowd, they smiled with uncertainty back at him.

“Tonight Tish will help me set light to his home and lands,” he looked over at Tish who did not look happy but was resigned to the fact that this was the correct path to take, “the rest of you just need to remember the story, we ran them out of town days ago, scared that the horsemen will come for them” he looked at each member of the gathering and nodded and then over at the remaining elders. “All right Teneth, let’s hope this works” Said Tam Winshon in a low tone.

The fire was raised after sunset so that the smoke was obscured by the night, Tish, Teneth and several other men of the village had taken torches to the hut and work shop behind it, then kicking and ploughing the land they made it seem as if the Cutters had been expelled days before. The job done Teneth and Tish returned to the village centre with their comrades and revised their story, upon the horsemen’s arrival all the towns folk would attest to casting the blond family from the village, that they had driven them in the direction of Stroud and the great Forest, if this were not enough they would be shown the burned remains and pointed in the “correct” direction.

This agreed they all retired to their homes, Tish with Teneth, and informed their families of the plan; their dreams were fitful that night, constantly awakening to noises, fearful that they would hear the sound of hooves.

Surveying the land from his vantage the Captain of the Magistrate Guard could see the village of Chalford clearly, at its Western tip he saw burned land, a dwelling had stood upon that land and had been raised only recently, the area around it had been ploughed, he noticed, even though it was clear from the surrounding ground that this part of the village had never been used for agriculture, His eyes followed the line of the slumbering village, nothing moved save a few dogs that paced back and forth, turning to his right he called out, “Sergeant, take five men and stand guard at the Western end of the village, I don’t want any escaping before I have seen them.” He shifted in his saddle and waived his hand at the remainder of his men, “the rest of you with me!” He called, facing forwards once more and setting off towards the village.

Reya awoke with a start, his father leant over him and whispered “get up and dressed, and help your mother hide Tish and the girls.” With that he watched Teneth move to the door of their hut and listen to the growing noise outside. Reya climbed to his feet and stared blearily around him, his mother sat at the head of their bed holding his baby brother, muffling his cries, Tish and his daughters stood quietly looking at Teneth’s back. He crept towards them and spoke softly “come on, we’ve got to hide you.” Tish looked at him and nodded, together they harried the girls towards the bed which had been dug out two days previously, beneath the wooden slates that held the bedding was now a hole deep enough and wide enough to hold a man if he crouched and three children, Tish lowered himself into the hole and took his daughters as Reya lowered them to him. This being accomplished the slates and bedding were re-laid and any signs of the children were cleared.

Standing and facing each other Reya and his mother breathed heavily, relieved with their achievement, “go and help your father.” She whispered, “he’ll need you.” Reya nodded and left the hut, walking quickly to warm himself in the cold morning air towards the town centre and his father.

The Horsemen moved slowly through the town from the East, stopping to inspect the burned remains of the Cutter’s home, one who had dismounted to get a closer look returned to report, “the land was scorched recently, maybe two days ago” he stood before the Captain, addressing the horse more than the man so high upon his steed was he from the ground. “There are signs that it was a family home, broken pots and the like.” He continued, shading his eyes from the rising sun, “behind where the hut stood was a work shop of some kind, there are a few tools for skinning and the like.” He finished, standing straight and placing his hands behind his back, awaiting further orders.

The Captain glanced around him at the debris, nodding he urged his horse forward towards the town centre followed by the rest of his men, the standing horseman waited for his team to move on before remounting and following on.

They proceeded further into the village, entering the centre the Captain saw before him a large contingent of serf awaiting them, at their head stood an elderly man holding a bushel of wheat, an expectant look upon his face, he smiled slightly as the riders drew nearer. “Greetings sirs,” Tam Winshon called out, stepping forwards slightly to welcome them, “I hope that we meet in good health this day” he continued, looking from rider to rider expectantly. The Captain rode forwards, staring coldly at the crowd, he spoke loudly so that they could all hear “we have come for all the blond and fair haired children in the village, and we have heard that a family by the name of Cutter lives here, all of whom are blond” his eyes focused upon Tam’s, “bring them forward” he growled, daring his audience to disobey.

“Sir, they are no longer here” Teneth stepped forward, speaking boldly to the Captain, “we had heard that riders were searching out blond families and wanting no trouble we sent them away” he continued in an imploring manner, keeping his eyes low and head cast down so as to feign callowness while guarding his lie.

“Is that so?” responded the Captain, he leaned forward upon his horse, “and this would explain the burned lands to the West of this village” he waived his arm in the direction of Tish’s land. “Yes sir” replied Teneth as he looked in the direction; he quickly averted his eyes once more.

The Captain lent back in his saddle, his eyes fixed upon Teneth’s head, “and why did you not keep them for us if you knew that it was they whom we wanted?” his question was not meant to be answered, he continued on “but of course you would all be fond of this family and wish them no harm, and so sent them away to protect them and yourselves.” He looked around at the watching serf, smiling as he did so. “Well then bring your own children forward to be examined,” he said softly, staring directly at Teneth as he spoke.

Shock and panic spreads faster than fire within small communities, this was no exception, fear blanched across Teneth’s face as he realised what the Captain had demanded, he knew that the riders did not simply want blond children, they wanted fair children as well, the subterfuge was for naught. “But sir” Tam Winshon spoke quickly, attempting to wrestle back the situation, “none of our children are blond, the fairest of ours are perhaps still darker than you” he shuffled towards the horse with his palms outstretched, pleading for understanding. The Captain thrust his leg forward, kicking Tam solidly in the chest sending him flailing into the crowd behind him, “do not implore me scum!” He shouted at the old man who lay on the floor grasping at his chest and straining for breath. “You will bring your spawn out to me at once, or we will get them ourselves!” He looked around at the stunned village, his right hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

Teneth crouched to help Tam to his feet, as he did so he spoke softly but audible enough for a few around him to hear, “run, run and save your families”, lifting Tam up from the ground he turned and cried out to his kinsfolk, “run!”

Reya watched as his father and Tam spoke to the large horseman, there were maybe thirty men between him and his father but he knew that many of them would not fight unless they had to, he glanced around him along the village centre and off towards the West, fancying that he could see horsemen at the end of the road he moved to the side of the crowd. It was then, as he dropped his attention from his father, that the feel of the gathered men tensed and all began to mutter, Reya turned to one man close to him, “what’s happened?” He asked, “the children!” Came the response in a shocked and frightened tone, “they want all the kids, not just Tish’s!” Reya breathed out in shock, suddenly he heard Tam Winshon cry out in pain and the large horseman call out that he demanded all the children be brought out. Then, as if a bell had been told, his father’s call came across the stricken crowd to run.

He sped away towards his home, heeding Teneth’s call before any other man in the group, making his way through small paths he made it to the hut as screams began to rise from the village and the shouts of men bounded across the valley within which Chalford sat.

Bursting through the door of his home he panted as he attempted to explain to his mother what had happened, finally after much coaxing he managed to stutter “horsemen, want all the children, not just the Cutter’s”, his mother’s eyes grew wild with fear, she shot past him and removed the bedding from atop the hidden man and his children. “We have to get out!” she shouted as she moved away from the hole to pick up her youngest son, “the horsemen are coming for all of our kids, we have to run!” she continued, franticly grabbing odds and ends and placing them back down. Tish climbed out of his hide and passed his daughters to Reya, “take them and go!” he said, fear in his voice as he walked towards the hut door, “I have to get Kasha and the others.” He continued as he rushed from them and off towards the village.

Reya’s mother moved closer to him and through her tears she turned his face to hers “take your brother and the girls and go the back way to the old road” she instructed him, he tried to interrupt but she rushed on “go on to the Bisley ruins and make for the Forest, they won’t follow you there.” Reya stared at her in shock “but ma,” he tried to argue with her but she grasped his shoulder and re-stated “go to the Forest!” She hissed and pushed him out of the door carrying his brother and followed by the girls.

In the village the tense situation had turned into a melee, town’s folk were running to and fro screaming for their children, horsemen ran down any who got near and began to invade the homes of the villagers to search for any hidden children. Tish made it into the centre in time to see Teneth sprinting at top speed towards a horseman who had dismounted and proceeded to beat one of the women. Tish ran in the same direction, meeting Teneth as they drew upon the horseman, Tenth leapt onto the rider’s back, placing his arm around the neck of his foe in a strangle hold, at the same time Tish grabbed the wailing villager and dragged her out of harm’s way, he then turned and reached for the horseman’s sheathed sword. The soldier saw the move coming; he twisted his hips in towards his opponent, freeing his throat from the choke hold, and slammed his elbow into the smaller man’s groin and as Teneth wheezed in pain and shock he struck upwards, hammering his palm into the Village leader’s jaw, shattering it and sending him sprawling, blood pouring from his mouth. In the same swift movement the horseman took hold of his sword, unsheathing it and striking with it in an arch, the blade slashed through Tish’s face with a sickening slice. The blond man stumbled backwards, his hands rising to his face, no sound left his lips, such was his shock.

Teneth scrambled to his feet, his jaw swelling, blood flowing freely through his lips; from his weeping eyes he beheld his friend, kneeling now with the horseman standing before him, sword in hand in readiness to strike Tish down with a killing blow. He stood and leapt once more at his enemy, but his speed failed him, the horseman turned and thrust his blade into Teneth’s chest, letting his body’s momentum continue to impale him upon the sword. Tish did not know that Teneth had died to save him, all he heard was the slump of a body as it fell to the floor in front of him.

The horseman turned once more to his blond opponent, “so they lied about you leaving” he said softly, he crouched low in order to face Tish eye to eye and continued, “you’re going to die from your wound my friend, and your fight will have been in vain, we will get your children” he sneered these last few words before rising and calling out to his Captain.

The Captain sat astride his horse watching the carnage unfold, to his left lay the body of Tam Winshon, the old man was too slow to escape the charging horses, he was run down and died were he lay. The Captain looked down on the body with distain, “old fool” he whispered to himself, even as he spoke he noticed the door of one of the village huts open ajar and the face of an old woman peer out in fear before she noticed that she had been seen and closed the door quickly. The leader of the horsemen trotted slowly towards the home, he dismounted and kicked the wooden door, once, twice, on the third it broke from its hinges to the screams of the occupants within. He strode through the doorway, stopping to let his eyes adjust to the gloom. When he was ready he looked around and beheld a clean and well-kept abode, full of handmade furniture and woollen carpeting, it felt a comfortable home, save for the old woman and her family cowering in the corner of the room. As he approached the old woman whom he had first seen crawled towards him, she spoke imploringly as she grovelled at his feet, “please sir, please don’t take my grandchildren” she whined, never raising her eyes to meet his, “I have no need of your grandchildren old woman,” he replied, pushing her away with his foot, “they are all dark and scrawny, they are of no use to me” he spat on the floor and looked around the hut once more before speaking again, “however, one so distinguished as yourself must know where the blond Cutter family are?” he looked down at her and smiled. Enrin Ricker finally looked up at the Sergeant, “so he does not want my family”, she thought, “he only wants the fair haired”, she sat back on her legs and spoke “they left the town two days before now sir”, she looked up at him feeling inside herself that she was saved and so now she would save others, “we drove them out sir, when we first heard that you were coming” she continued looking away from him now. The Captain stood and pondered her answer before he spoke once more to her, “waif woman, if I find that you are lying after I have spared you your children, I will punish you and them to my full pleasure” he growled his final words before leaving the home.

As he left he heard a call from one of his men, looking in the direction he saw one of his horsemen standing before a villager, the body of another laying at his feet. He marched towards the scene, stepping over the unconscious or dead bodies of village men who had attempted to fight the horsemen. As he approached his man shouted out to him, “Captain! They lied. The blond family are still here” he smiled as his Captain drew near, the leader glanced down at the disfigured face of a blond villager, blood had soaked into the ground around him and he sagged slowly forwards unconsciousness creeping upon him from blood loss. The Captain kicked the villager before questioning him, “what is your name serf?” he asked rhetorically as he already knew the answer, “is it Cutter?” he asked again staring down at him as though he were a dying rat that he had stumbled upon. “It makes no difference, we will find your family,” he said at last before turning on his heel and stalking back towards the home of Enrin Ricker.

The horseman turned back to Tish, a smile on his face and a song in his heart, “well then,” he said lightly, “it seems you’ve been left to me”.

Enrin watched him approach, looking beyond to where he had come from she spotted Tish Cutter kneeling stricken, she continued to watch dumbfounded as the horseman in front of him struck downwards with his sword cleaving his head open and killing him instantly. She visibly quaked before the eyes of her family; she knew what this meant, “run!” she shouted at them, “go, run or we are all dead!” she screamed again turning back to the door. Her son and his children stood and rushed through the exit, and away down the road, the last vision they had of their grandmother was her fear, it was a better vision to hold then what would follow.

The Captain stormed in through her door, drawing his sword as he advanced towards her, she stood shaking, holding a carving knife that she normally used for bread, “woman you lied and you know it!” he bellowed as he strode across her meagre floor, “and you have sent your family fleeing expecting my retribution!” he shouted as he threw a small table through the air at her, she screamed in terror and covered her eyes with her free arm expecting him to attack, which he did, and violently so. Her screams were heard throughout the village, but she never released her blade, even unto death she attempted to fight. Finally he stepped from her home, using a piece of her shift to wipe the blood from his sword and off his face, as he did so he winced, removing the cloth he touched his face, she had managed to cut him along his cheek, he would wear the scar of Enrin Ricker for the rest of his life.

The bodies of Tish Cutter and Tenth Lang were recovered by the village folk the next day. The scene that greeted them had been arranged by the horsemen to evoke fear, horror and above all respect, so that they would never fight back again. They were mourned for a long time after the event, along with those others who had been killed that day.

……………………………..

They ran, never had they run so far so fast, as if the very fires of hell leapt at their heels, they ran until their chests ached, their legs burned and their feet bled and yet they were still not far enough to escape.

Reya fell to the ground, tears flowing down his face, his breath a wheezing pant, he twisted as he fell and landed heavily on his rear, facing the direction from which he had escaped with his brother and the three young daughters of Tish Cutter, Two of them he had already lost, they were unable to keep up with him even as he carried his brother and the youngest girl, when he had reached the corner on the far West of the village they had disappeared, perhaps running to find their mother. The two infants he carried wailed in his arms, terrified, uncomfortable and tired. They wanted their parents. Reya wished for them as well but he did not hope to see them any time soon. In his thirteenth year he was now nearly a man, able to work with his father and visit other towns, he had seen what he thought was the outside world, recently he had learned that life was not fair, his youngest cousin had died from fever last winter. This, he thought. was unjust but his father had sat him down and explained that the world is unjust. They had not chosen to be born serf. They had not wanted their troubles in life but life was not fair and they had to accept that which they could not change, but they should not accept that which they could change.

He looked at his surroundings; he had collapsed in to the centre of a wheat field just west of the village. Now he had to head north as his mother had advised and head for the Bisley ruins and from there, the Forest, though why she should order this he did not know, surely it would be more hazardous than the horsemen. As he sat contemplating his near future, his brother and the small girl in his arms sobbing quietly, he saw movement from the village, in the distance he made out the shapes of two girls running at full speed in his direction, behind them horsemen came racing from the Western gate, chasing them even as they grew closer to Reya and his wards.

Within seconds he had scrambled to his feet, holding the young ones he began to run ahead of their approach towards a small copse he had known since boyhood. As he reached it he heard behind him the stamp of their feet as they caught up with him, he knew that the horsemen would not be far behind. He skidded into the trees, threw himself into a thicket taking care to cover the children’s heads. Laying low and attempting to hush the now distraught pair he watched as the two girls ran through the trees, the horsemen on their tails. Terrified he watched as the girls were herded towards an old oak that dominated the small wood, they would be cornered and captured, it was a certainty, “do not accept that which you can change”, he heard the words in his mind even as he scrambled from under the thicket, leaving his charges behind, he raced towards the girls, stopping abruptly to pick up a large branch that had fallen from the oak the year before.

Stealthily he moved closer to them, the horsemen had barred the girls’ escape and were now laughing with each other at how good the sport had been, they were tempted to let them run again so as to continue the hunt, but it was as they spoke that Reya leapt forward with his thick branch and slammed it into the rear leg of the horse closest to him. There was a sickening crunch as the horse let out a shrill pitch of pain, it buckled immediately and fell, the rider slipping from his saddle and landing below the horse just as it fell atop him, crushing him beneath her.

The rider let out a scream, in agony he twisted and rolled but could not free himself from his horse’s weight, Reya raised his club and swung it heavily onto the rider’s head, the man crumpled and shivered before dying. His fellow rider had regained control of his stead and turned to face Reya, drawing his sword as he did so, he cried out “bastard!” and lunged for him, striking for a head blow, Reya ducked and swung once more with his new found club missing his opponent but startling the horse enough to make it rear and throw its rider from his saddle. He landed heavily but climbed back onto his feet, dazed he searched the ground for his sword but found instead a girl standing before him, eye to eye they met and he would have laughed at her blank face were it not for her thrusting the sword into his throat, she moved away quickly watching him fall, he lay dying at her feet, utter shock scrawled across his face while hers was a picture of vengeance.

Reya moved next to her as she watched his death throws, now that he could think clearly he recognised her, Arla Winshon, old Tam’s granddaughter and the other was Bessa Winshon his youngest granddaughter. He looked over towards the smallest of the pair, she crouched under the tree weeping softly, exhausted from the chase and terrified by the violence. Turning to Arla he finally broke the silence, “are you ok?” He asked her foolishly, not knowing what else to say. She looked at him coldly and then back down at the dead man, “they killed grandpa.” She said softly, “and my ma, they killed her too.” She continued turning her face sharply to look at him. She was not much younger than he, maybe 11 years and she was strong, he could see that. “Well we need to get out of here” he responded, staring over towards her sister he continued, “they’ll come looking for these two” he kicked the dead man irreverently before continuing, “we’re going towards the old Bisley ruins and then on to the Forest”, Arla’s face dropped slightly, the first real sign of emotion that he had seen from her, “the Forest!” She stammered before continuing, “but, but you’ll be killed there” she looked around quickly in the direction of the village, “and who’s this we?” She asked while she scanned the land. Reya hadn’t moved his eyes from her since she had spoken, he frowned and answered her question, trying to sound adult, “we won’t be killed, me and my brother and Tish Cutter’s daughter Maya.” He concluded sounding as self-assured as he could. “You’d better hurry up and get them then” she said quickly, “the horsemen are already heading our way.” As she spoke she turned and took the reins of the rider-less horse, walked it over to her sister and mounted, pulling her sister up behind her.

Reya span franticly in the direction of his brother, only to see three horsemen drawing ever closer to their position, he shouted and began to run to them, desperate to reach them before the riders did but Arla called out to him even as he began to take pace, “you won’t reach them! Come with us!” She shouted, turning her horse in his direction. He faltered and staggered to a halt, seeing that the horsemen had already passed his brother’s hiding place, crying now he turned back to face her, “but I have to save him, he’s my brother!” Anguished as he spoke but she moved her steed closer to him, “you’ll both be captured or killed, come on!” She reached down and pulled at his shift, forcing him towards her and away from his last remaining link to his family. He looked up at her and over to the horsemen, then scrambled up behind Arla and her sister, “I’m sorry!” She shouted over her shoulder as she manoeuvred the horse round and set him at a gallop out of the copse and off into the wheat field beyond.

Reya twisted his head round to look back towards his brother, now lost to the horsemen like his mother and father; he could do no more than cry.

2

The Captain rode out to join his Sergeant and three more of his men. They had called for him after discovering two of their comrades dead. One crushed by his horse, his head caved in by his attacker, the horse’s leg had been snapped from behind and had to be put down. The second had been killed with his own sword. This would not do, though they had taken the village and acquired a number of children, three of whom were blond, two of his men dead, a horse dead and another missing simply would not do.

“Captain we saw the murderers escape northwards on the missing steed,” the sergeant informed him, he then stepped sideways revealing what stood behind him, “we also found these two sir” he smiled as the Captain looked down at two very young children, one with bright blond hair. He frowned at them before speaking, “ah, so the missing blond child is discovered, along with another.” He turned to face his sergeant, “take these two back to the village and take command of the convoy to Oxford” he ordered, the sergeant stood to attention as the Captain spoke, “I will proceed with these three men and hunt down our murderers” he smiled slightly relishing the idea of the sport.

The sergeant watched as his Captain rode away with three of his men in the same direction as the runaways, he sighed to himself before he picked up both children and placed them onto his horse then he mounted behind them and set off for the village.

They rode for what seemed like an age, striking out across fields and small, ancient paths that had once been large roads connecting small towns to one another. As they rode they peered around at the landscape that surrounded them. The crumbling ruins of settlements larger than their town went passed them, in some places no more than mounds, in others large triangular buildings fell apart even as they moved beyond them. Bessa Winshon, the younger of the two girls, craned her neck to look behind them as they rode, she could see cattle in the fields around as well as wheat and other crops, further in the distance but gaining she could make out riders, moving quickly to catch up with them. She turned slowly and tapped her sister’s shoulder, “Arla, there are men coming” she said questioningly, expecting Arla to tell her to quiet, Reya glanced over his shoulder and let out a whelp of shock, “go faster!” he shouted over the sound of hooves, “more horsemen are coming!” By now they could see the Bisley ruins in the distance, a thick black line spread along the horizon behind the skeletal structures that made up what was left of the archaic town. “We’re nearly there” Arla called back to him pointing to the dark line in the distance.

The Captain quickened his pace; he could see the fugitives ahead of him, nearing what looked to be an ancient town that had fallen into ruin. One of his men caught up and called over to him, “Sir, they’re heading for the Forest!” The Captain stretched himself to see, he had never come so close to the borders of the Forest, only hearing from his peers and fellow soldiers the stories that emanated from its shadows. “I care not for fairy tales” he growled and pointed his arm towards his quarry, “get them!” He roared as he kicked his horse into speed.

They raced passed stone monuments, a circular stone inset that looked as if it were made for kings to sit upon, five triangular mounds protruded from the inside wall of the semi-circle, before them they espied the top of another triangular building, shaded by trees they could only see the very top, slowly falling in upon itself. Then they shot past the ruined northern point and on towards the Forest line, the riders following closer behind them, near enough now to hear their shouts and orders to one another. None of them spoke as they charged along fields; their fear was palpable for they could almost feel the rider’s breaths upon their necks, so close were they as they competed for their lives. The trees were visible now, casting their darkness over the land in front of them, now the children were trapped, unable to escape their tormentors but unwilling to enter the foreboding woodland. Reya lent over Arla’s shoulder, “we have to go in, the Forest’s our only hope!” He shouted. She merely frowned and gritted her teeth at the approaching night, hating her predicament, hating the riders behind them and hating Reya for being right.

They followed the border, keeping to the shadowy line of the trees. Not wanting to enter and not wanting to turn away. The riders were still behind them but they could not go on forever, their horse would tire as would they and they would be caught. Finally Arla let out a shout of rage and drove their horse into the Forest’s depths, slowing in order to navigate the thick trees. They could no longer hear the horsemen behind them but were sure that they would not be far. Eventually they slowed to a crawl, the horse could hardly step over roots let alone run at speed, and what was more evident was that it was as exhausted as they were. “We’re going to have to walk” Reya said softly, for the trees seemed to demand a quietness from them, others before may have likened the Forest unto a cathedral, with many pillars towering towards the sky, noises shooting across them made them jump, screams from nowhere that they knew would be foxes except that childish imagination did not allow for reality.

They stopped and dismounted, allowing Bessa a few minutes to recover before continuing further, it was then that they heard the riders again, dismounted and following the tracks that they had left.

The Captain reined his horse to a standstill. He scanned the trees as he made his decision, his men behind him, uncomfortable in the presence of the trees but they would not run. The Captain turned to face them, “you two follow them, and we’ll stay behind to make certain that they do not attempt to leave.” He ordered as he rode next to his corporal, the two riders looked at him in shock, they didn’t expect to go near the Forest let alone enter it but they had been ordered, “you heard the Captain, get in there!” The corporal shouted, pointing at the trees as he did so. Reluctantly the riders entered the Forest, searching the ground for the tracks left by the children and their steed.

Panic once again gripped their hearts, they stood and started to climb over roots and under low branches, stepping into soft, deep mulch as they proceeded, but even as they worked they could hear the riders closing in. They had quickened their pace in order to achieve their goal as quickly as possible. Terrified, they began to trip as they moved, constantly watching behind them for their enemies’ approach, more suddenly than their perceived peril they fell forward and down a steep hill, hitting trees and stones as they rolled, coming to a halt in a heap in the centre of a wooded crater. Climbing off of each other Reya dropped onto his rear, screaming in pain and clutching his leg, Arla crouched to look at it but could not see, so dark was the Forest, but she could feel blood spilling from his shin, “it’s bleeding, probably broken.” She said, not attempting to whisper now, after he had screamed and given away their location. They looked to the top of the ravine and saw the shadows of two men proceeding slowly down towards them. Forlorn the girls attempted to stand and drag Reya with them but he was too heavy, the horsemen were almost upon them now, laughing at the ease of the capture and the falseness of the stories of the Forest, but even as they approached they stopped, staring behind the children at the shadows.

A voice called out from behind them, forceful but feminine it seemed to carry the weight of the Forest within it, “you were told never to enter these woods” it said powerfully, resonating from each tree at the horsemen who stood dumbfounded. “All are told that no adult may enter under penalty of death” it continued and as it did so a figure stepped from the shadows and walked past the children towards the riders; it was a woman, of that there was no doubt, slender built with long, red hair flowing down her back. She wore a white robe that buttoned at the front, it stopped abruptly at her ankles where her feet were clad in thin white shoes. In short, she did not look a threat, but perceptions can deceive.

“Lady, we come for those children” one of the horsemen spoke heavily, placing as much bass in his voice as he could, his cohort drew his sword and began to move sideways, attempting to circle the woman. “They are wanted for murder and theft” he continued, drawing his own sword now and stepping towards her. “I do not care for your excuses gentlemen” she answered, her accent strange and her use of words peculiar, as she spoke she turned to face the second rider, raising her eyebrow before she spoke, she said softly, “and now gentlemen you will be punished”. In that instant the horseman erupted into flames, his chest exploding outwards with such force that his burning innards flew into the treetops and fell smouldering to the ground. The Children screamed and crawled backwards away from the ashen body while the first rider stumbled backwards and lost his footing, turning his back on them he began to climb the ravine in an attempt to escape the woman but even as he did so a line of blue – white light flew into his back and sent his body sparkling as burning dust.

A layer of ash remained where he once crawled, his skull and several bones still burning as the children watched, eventually degrading into blackened heaps upon the ground.

The woman walked in a circle, examining the remains before walking over to the children, all three laid, cowering and crying against a tree. “Greetings young ones” she said, walking in front of them and smiling as if nothing had happened. “I am Casra, and I am here to help you” she spoke softly now, crouching to look at each of them. “I will heal what harms you” she concluded and smiled sweetly before lifting Reya into her arms as if he were a babe and striding off into the forest, followed by the girls.

The Captain sat astride his horse, next to him was his Corporal who chewed idly at his fingernails. They watched the tree line for any trace of their men, turning every so often to glance at a shadow that seemed to move from the trees, finally as the sun had almost set, the day light glowing orange in the sky to the west while the east merged from red into blue and then black, three horses ran from the forest, without their riders and neighing at the trees behind them. The Captain looked at the man to his left, then back to the horses, questions beginning to formulate in his mind, his Corporal spoke first, “perhaps it’s a message sir.” He said as he watched the horses run passed them and off into the distance. Even as he spoke a shock of blue – white light flew from the forest and struck the Corporal in the head, causing his body from the waist up to explode into flames. The Captain’s horse startled and threw him from her back; he climbed to his feet and ran after her away from the Forest, he understood the message.

3

She carried him through the trees, the girls following on behind her, wary that she would turn and strike them down but she merely stopped every so often to wait for them to catch up with her. Eventually they reached a clearing with enough space for a large home and lands, it was devoid of any human construction save for a white, arrow shaped object that floated a foot above the ground, bathed by the stars it looked as though it were a shard of the sky fallen from the heavens. It sparkled with a million specs of light looking all the more ethereal to the children as they approached. Reya stared at it as they drew closer, it was longer than a cart, he estimated at least ten foot and possible five foot wide at its centre, narrowing to a point at what he presumed was the front and flattened into a pyramid shape at the rear. It looked solid but as they drew near Casra placed her hand atop it and pushed, her hand slipped through the surface as though sifting through sand, she smiled at the children and then lifted Reya above it, lowering him slowly down and letting him sink through its top. He panicked but her strength kept him still. It was as though he had sunk through a sand pit, the substance moved around him a tiny speck at a time. As his head passed through the ceiling he saw what lay within, five seats, longer at the base than at the back, intended for their occupants to recline rather than sit. He was placed in the central seat and as she let him go he slid down into a comfortable position, the seat itself shifting as a sand dune would into a softened shape that supported his injured leg. As he relaxed Bessa was lowered gently into the capsule, the look of astonishment upon her face made Reya grin but he could not stop himself from laughing at her exclamation “eeh! It looks like magic, silver dust” she whispered as she slid into her seat, “yes” he answered but was too shocked to say more.

Outside Casra looked down at Arla’s frowning face, she began to back away even as Casra turned to pick her up, “no!” She shouted, taking further steps backwards, away from the woman, “child you must come with me.” Casra spoke softly but forcefully, she did not sound angry but her tone sounded as though everything did as she wanted. “No it’s a cage,” she screamed looking at the capsule, “you’re going to kill us!” She said in a matter of fact tone. With a blinding speed Casra moved behind her and picked her gently off the ground, as she did so she addressed Arla’s concerns, “young lady if I was going to kill you,” she looked down into the girl’s terrified eyes, “I already would have.”

Within the capsule Reya and Bessa watched Arla’s feet appear through the ceiling, slowly she was lowered into the seat behind Reya’s, tears streamed down her face as she looked at her sister and then at Reya, their faces freezing at the site of her, “you’re alive” she said, shocked at the discovery, “of course we are” Bessa responded “the lady saved us” she concluded.

“But..” Arla attempted to argue, even as she did so Casra walked in front of them, her waist obscured by the craft as though she were cut in half. She smiled at them then turned to face the front, placing her hands on the sides of her seat she lifted her legs through the substance easily, placing herself lithely into the first seat. Her hands brushed the front of the capsule and it shuddered slightly, a wave of dust following after her hand, coming to rest perfectly as though never touched. Quite suddenly the three of them were asleep, unknowing, unmoving and silent, “this will take some getting used to.” Casra spoke to herself, as she did the craft rippled again responding to her words.

When they awoke they were still lying on their seats within the capsule. Casra sat in the front seat and brushed her hand along the surface of the craft once more, instantly it shuddered and began to sift away, like a sand storm, dispersing from all sides and leaving them in the centre of a large garden. Reya sank to the ground gently, lowered by the dissolving object; unable to stand as it drifted away he ended sitting at their feet looking up at Casra in wonder with much the same expression as the girls. Casra bent and lifted him into her arms once again, carrying him away from the sand storm swirl that had been their craft.

As they walked the children at once noticed the building towards which they proceeded. It stood larger than any they had ever seen, square and white it stretched further than Chalford and stood higher even than the towering triangular ruins they had passed during their escape. Its entrance was built into a globe shaped structure attached to its front while all along the plain white walls of the building proper lines had been carved creating rectangular shaped blocks sunken into the walls. The lands to the front of the building were composed of flowerbeds and small fruit trees with a path that led through them to the main entrance. Tracing back from the entrance the path flowed in to the forest and was lost in utter darkness. The children gaped in disbelief at the building and its surroundings, never had they seen its like and their wonderment only continued as they approached the entrance door.

Casra strode confidently ahead of the girls, carrying Reya freely as she did so. She stepped up to the doorway and waited. Arla and Bessa watched dubiously, expecting everything and anything to occur, they were not disappointed. The space within the doorframe seemed to be solid wall, there was no handle or area to push but as with the craft the wall shifted to let her pass, then reformed as it was before. They walked through the doorway and into a large white room, light pouring from the walls illuminating every aspect of the children and Casra as they entered. It was then that Reya realised how truly different Casra was from any one they had ever met before, her skin was perfect. That is to say that she had no blemishes or marks of any kind. Her hair was pure and clean, flowing like silk down her back and stopping abruptly at her shoulders, as she turned and smiled he noticed that she had all of her teeth and that they were as white as her clothes. “Welcome to the Central Arena for Scientific Research and Analysis” she said happily, looking at each of them in turn, seeming not to notice their looks of pure disbelief. “Here you will be able to grow, to flourish and be educated” she continued spreading her palms out as she spoke in what seemed a practiced and automatic movement. “This is your new home, we want you to be happy here.” She finished placing her hands in front of her, Arla looked around and then back at Casra frowning “who’s we?” she asked looking around as she waited for her answer, Casra smiled and waved her hand to their right, a door slid open revealing another room with a long table suspended above a very large, rectangular tank filled with bright blue water, “first you must be healed” she responded as she walked behind them and guided them into the room.

As they left the sparse room the door slid closed behind them silently, the seal so close that the door seemed to merge with the wall itself. “What’s going to happen?” Reya asked, finding his voice through the pain, his inquisitiveness forcing its way through, “why is this going to be our new home? Can’t we go back?” he concluded, voicing the questions for the three of them. “You are all safe, no harm will come to you here” Casra answered him and then looked from Arla to Bessa as she continued, “unfortunately you will not be able to leave, you would be killed by the Forest if you tried.” She frowned as she came to her final answer, “I do not understand fully why your village was attacked but I do know that very many of your fellows were killed, it would not be safe for you to return there even if you did leave”, her eyes brightened once more and looked back at Reya, “how do you know our village was attacked?” Arla lashed her question as if to accuse Casra of masterminding the events.

“We monitor every occurrence around us.” Casra answered, her soft voice showing no signs of anger nor any other emotion. “Your village was not the only place attacked”, Arla looked down at her feet, tears beginning to well in her eyes, she looked up in shock as Casra placed her arm around her shoulder to console her, “child” she whispered, “as much as you may want me to be evil and wanting to hurt you I am not and do not.” She crouched and turned the girl to face her eye-to-eye, “you are safe here, you are not trapped but it is not safe yet for you to leave.” She smiled and stroked Arla’s face, “please stay and let us help you” she implored, slowly Arla nodded but kept her reservations.

“Now” she said as she stood and turned to Reya, “we must get you healthy.” She picked him up once more and sat him down on the table in front of them, quickly she removed his shift and trousers from him before he could complain or resist. He blushed heavily looking at the girls, while Arla simply looked at her feet again it was Bessa who giggled and covered her face. Casra took hold of his ankles and moved him around so that he could lie stretched out on the table, she pushed him gently onto his back and with her free hand she touched a panel above her. The table began to lower itself into the tank bellow it, as it did so the opening of the tank glowed a pale green. Casra kept her hands on Reya’s chest, keeping him still as the table lowered but as it passed through the green light he passed out as if dead, she removed her hands and stepped back watching with the girls.

A small rectangle flashed brightly on the side of the tank, symbols began to roll from right to left that were illegible to the girls but Casra read the words out loud for them to hear, “adolescent male, aged 13 years, 4 months, three days.” She spoke softly watching the words as the moved, “5 foot 3 inches tall, weight 60.3277 Kilograms” she continued. Suddenly the tank began to hum loudly; the green light penetrated the blue liquid and began to move along the length of it passing over Reya’s body as it did so. The girls moved closer to watch what was happening, inside the tank they saw the light move faster and faster until there was no gap between the movement and all the liquid was transformed from blue to green. They turned their heads to look closer as Reya’s left leg started to move, the skin around his injury peeled itself backwards, revealing the muscle and bone beneath, the bone itself had clearly been snapped but even as they watched the section that had been broken along with an inch of bone either side of it dissolved, then reformed a new, as if there had been no break at all, then the muscle and skin grew back and sealed shut leaving no marks or scars of any kind.

Further up his leg the skin around his knee peeled away, the muscle and bone dissolved and re-grew again before closing up as if it had never taken place, similar took place over his chest and then to his eyes, his eyeballs dissolving and re-growing before them in a matter of seconds, afterwards they watched his teeth disappear and shoot out again from his gums. Finally after his hair had dissolved and been replenished and all the dirt and grime that had accumulated over his body had been removed the light stopped, the table began to rise and as it did so Reya passed through the green light once more, he awoke immediately and looked around at Casra and the girls.

“What happened?” he asked, as he slid off the table, “you have been healed!” Casra responded, walking over to him and ushering him towards the farthest wall, where a small room appeared, filled with white clothing. Casra took from the room a white pair of trousers and a thin white shirt; she handed them to Reya and walked back to the girls. He looked at them as Casra walked away from him, Arla pointed at his leg, his chest and then his eyes, shock plastered over her face. Reya stared down at his shin, newly restored; he bounced up and down and then looked up in wonder, “my knee’s better!” He announced, “and I can see properly!” He looked around amazed at the definition of the world around him. Casra stepped up to Arla, smiling at her and guiding her towards the tank. Although she was uncertain, her confidence was buoyed after watching Reya’s miraculous healing. She allowed herself to be lifted on to the table, her clothing removed, and then swinging her legs round and lying flat, she signalled to Casra that she was ready.

Reya was impressed at her bravery, even he had quaked slightly and had to be held down by Casr. He watched transfixed as Arla was lowered through the green light and gasped at the sight of her falling into torpor. He and Bessa watched as parts of Arla’s body dissolved and reformed anew, her thighbones restructured after being malformed through a lack of vitamins, her chest cavity opened to allow her heart to fizzle and heal from a minute hole, her right eye healed from a slight defect and as with Reya her teeth dissolved and re-grew again.

Finally her hair, cut short by her mother, disappeared and sprouted again growing lustrous and floating in the blue liquid around her. The table rose and she awoke, staring fixedly at the ceiling before she spoke, “my chest doesn’t hurt.” She paused considering her transformation, “and my legs feel different,” she finalised, sitting up and shaking them slightly in front of her. Her eyes darted to Reya’s who had been trying his hardest not to look at her. He averted his eyes as quickly as she looked, embarrassed. She dropped from the table and walked to the dressing room where Casra stood, waiting for her with clothes in hand.

Lastly it was Bessa’s turn, much the same occurred as the previous two however twenty minutes into the procedure it altered its cycle. Casra moved closer to read the screen at the front of the tank, “scanning for genetic cancer abnormality. ”She read and then stood once more watching. “What does that mean?” Arla asked moving from Reya to the tank in order to see what was happening. “As you can see,” Casra informed them in response to the question, “this machine, named the CRS or Cellular Replication System, scans and cures whatever illness or injury you might have.” She waved her hand at Reya’s leg before continuing, “it also automatically scans for genetic abnormalities, which includes cancer and other genetic diseases.” Both Reya and Arla stared at her blankly, incomprehension shooting from their eyes at her. She smiled and elaborated “forgive me, I am not used to speaking to people who are completely un-educated.” She spread her hands as she continued, ignoring Arla’s look of indignation at being called un-educated. “This tank uses light to fix any illness or injury.” She simplified to the point of lying, “it also checks to see if you carry any signs of future illness and fixes it.” She smiled at them as they stared back at the tank, which had started to hum louder, “however it takes longer to fix than the other problems.” She concluded. Minutes later Bessa’s body began to glitter, every part of her sparkled as the machine re-programmed her genetic code, the children were not to know, and at that time could not have conceived that without this machine Bessa would surely have died young.

As the glow faded and the table rose Arla breathed a sigh of relief, the enormity of all that had occurred that day and the week before had not yet struck her but she knew that she needed her sister, if only to keep herself happy. Bessa awoke and turned to look at them, her face alight with joy at having undergone something exciting which she could not understand. Casra picked her up from the table, and held her hand as they walked to the dressing room. Moments later they all stood before one another, the girls giggling about the length of their hair, Reya feeling his teeth, amazed at their strength. Casra broke the scene, “would you all follow me please, it’s time you saw your new home,” she announced as she turned on her heal and walked towards where the entrance had been. As before it appeared out of the wall and opened to allow them to pass, they walked through and followed Casra through the empty room of light that was the building entrance and then through another door into a hallway. This corridor stretched the length of the entire building; to their left the wall was composed of a single window that allowed an unobstructed view of the outside world, all of which was taken up by the forest and the small garden that bordered the building’s entrance. The Children stared at the trees as they walked, the wall to their right being blank white it held no interest, but the Forest; for the first time they were able to see exactly how large it was, the hallway sloped gently upwards to take them to the second floor and as it did so it offered a better view of the landscape. Nothing but trees, stretching as far as the eye could see, every so often a larger oak stood out from the rest, or a flock of birds would take off from the canopy but nothing man made could be seen, the desert of nature, free from mankind it posed a palpable threat to any human that entered it either by destruction directed by Casra or from natural enmity that the forest relayed to the outside world.

“Is it real?” Reya stopped and asked his question to anyone who would listen, “yes, the Forest was planted seven hundred and twenty eight years ago, it was intertwined with a reflexive technology that protects it from any adult human.” Casra answered automatically, Reya looked at her questioningly; she explained in layman’s terms “we planted the trees along with machines that look like trees, those machines protect the forest from destruction.” Reya nodded, “magic” he said softly, misunderstanding the concept and not accepting that anything so incredible could be anything less than supernatural. Casra looked at him quizzically; she had never encountered any people so uneducated, however she had not met anyone else for a very long time, and things change.

She led them through a doorway at the end of the corridor, as they passed through it they gasped in shock. The building beyond the entrance was the antithesis of the previous sterile nature, colours abound with soft seating and wooden tables scattered around the largest room they had ever seen. Covering one length was a black oblong that glittered as they walked towards it, at the furthest point three doorways lead to separate rooms with beds and furniture. They were not used to privacy, their lives a constant movement around siblings and family, the concept of individual rooms kept them entranced even as Casra explained everything to them. “We anticipated that you would need your own space and so rooms have been provided.” She pointed at each room, “Bessa, that one is yours, you can make it any colour you like.” she smiled at the eight year old as she spoke.

“Hold on!” Arla ordered, indignation in her voice as she glared at Casra, “how do you know our names?” She demanded, “And how do you know our village is dangerous?” She questioned again storming towards Casra in a rage, she had taken enough. How could any of this be happening? How could this woman know so much about them and everything else? “You’re a witch!” she shouted again pointing her finger at Casra who stood immutable, “you did this to us didn’t you.” She glared at her with such anger and hatred in her eyes that Reya stepped back, Bessa began to cry, overcome with the emotions of the day and now her sister breaking in front of her. “Didn’t you!” Arla roared attempting to strike the tall woman, expecting it to connect and actually create an emotion in her. Casra’s hand flashed faster than any of them could have expected, clasping Arla’s wrist she lifted her easily from the ground and held her face to face, terror now coursed across Arla’s face, she had not expected this. “Arla Winshon” Casra spoke calmly as if she was not holding the girl a foot from the ground by her arm, “I know your name and the names of your sister and friend because you know them.” She moved her head closer to Arla’s, who turned her face in fear, “I can read your mind.” she said, lowering the girl back to the ground but keeping her arm locked in her grip. “But that does not mean that we caused you your harm, or that we killed your family.” She continued, still looking at Arla whose face was now smeared with the sheen of tears. “Yes your family is dead, I’m sorry but the horsemen killed them.” Casra informed them, “we did not cause them to arrive at your village but we did foresee your coming.” She let go of Arla’s arm and folded her hands in front of her before continuing. “You will not understand this but we knew that children would enter the forest seeking protection, and when you arrived we gleamed the knowledge we needed from you in order to keep you safe.” Arla crouched and began to cry, her fear now abated by grief for her family, her mistrust pointless as she could not go back, she had to resign herself to the situation they found themselves in and she did not like feeling out of control.

“You have individual rooms because you will need them.” Casra continued, paying no heed to Arla’s tears. “You must stay here but the price you will pay for your safety is education.” Reya stared at her, shocked, “an education?” He said to her walking over to Arla and looking at Casra with trepidation. “What sort of education?” He asked. “You will learn all that you need to learn in order to undertake your mission in the future.” Casra informed him and without another word she walked away towards a square hole sunken into the wall next to their rooms. She turned and held her hand underneath it, “this will give you food, you may each have three meals a day.” She instructed them, “the morning, the afternoon and the evening.” She smiled again at them, though they now feared her too much to approach. “In each of your rooms is a wash room.” She continued, “towels are provided, as are facilities for new clothing,” she then walked back to them, looking at each one in turn, “please understand, we need you as much as you need us.” She finally showed some sign of emotion, though it seemed as prepared as everything else she had said, “you are not prisoners but we must insist that you do not try to leave, as I said we need you, but after tomorrow you will understand everything.” She finished looking at Arla who did not return her gaze. She reached out and gently turned Arla’s face to hers, “I did not mean to scare you or hurt you.” She said, staring into her eyes, “you are aggrieved and scared and mistrustful, all these feelings are natural.” She lowered her hand and stepped away, her eyes never leaving Arla’s. “You will grow to like it here, but first you need food and a good night’s sleep.” Her smile returned and she walked over to the rectangular hole that she said provided food. She placed her hand to the side of it and said in a clear voice, “beef soup with bread.” The panel under her hand glowed a pale blue, then a similar coloured light emanated from the cavity, Casra placed her hand inside and withdrew a bowl of steaming soup which sat upon a dish, surrounded by several slices of buttered bread.

She turned and carried her order over to a large table in the centre of the room and laid it gently at the head. She then repeated the process until three bowls sat waiting the children’s ravenous need. Casra stepped back away from the table and ushered the children to approach, Reya sat first and began to eat, his hunger overriding any trepidation, Bessa followed and sat waiting for her sister, who stood and watched Reya suspiciously, he stopped eating and stared at her, his spoon still in his mouth, removing it he snapped at her “the food’s fine and you need to eat!” Then he returned to his meal. Arla moved forward and sat, staring at the food for a minute; finally she picked up a slice of bread, dipped it into the brown liquid and placed it into her mouth. At that the three of them ate greedily, Casra stood and watched them eat, then as they neared the end she walked towards the exit, “this is where I will leave you for the night, feel free to explore your surroundings and I shall see you all tomorrow.” She smiled and turned on her heal, leaving the room and disappearing behind the corridor walls.

“She’s a witch!” Arla spoke before the others; she stared in the direction of the hallway as if expecting Casra to reappear. “She going to try and kill us.” The girl continued but quietened and turned to face Reya as he placed his hand on her shoulder. “Why would she bring us here, from the horsemen, heel us, clothe us and feed us if she wanted to kill us?” He quizzed her, glaring at her in an effort to cow her into acceptance, “maybe she wants to eat us and needs us fattened like our cows!” Arla argued childishly as though the old tails her parents had told her at night were true and coming for them. Reya looked at her incredulously, “she might be a witch.” He responded and let her gloat quickly before continuing, “but she’s more powerful than what you’re thinking.” Arla’s eyes widened in fear as she listened, Bessa moved next to her and hugged her arm for reassurance, Reya looked at them both and then carried on, “but I don’t think she wants to kill us, if she did we’d already be dead.” He looked Arla in the eyes as he continued, “she needs us, that much is obvious, but she needs us alive and safe and I don’t know about you but I don’t want to go back to the village, not now my family’s dead.” He lowered his eyes as he confessed his thoughts, “there’s food here, and we’re safer than we have ever been, and I want to know how all of this is done, learn the magic if I can.” He looked up at both of the girls now with a scowl on his face, “I want to know how I can kill them, the horsemen that killed our families, don’t you?” Arla looked down at her feet, Bessa cried softly as she held her sister’s hands but Arla kept herself, she nodded slowly and stared back up at Reya, “yes, we do!” she answered him.

They looked around the room for a while, Reya could not understand the need for a large, flat, black and very shiny glass surface that covered the entirety of the western wall, the east wall next to their rooms was covered from floor to ceiling with books. They had only ever seen one book their entire lives, the book of the village, kept by the girls’ grandfather Tam Winshon which detailed the history of their small town. The books intrigued Bessa most of all, none of them could read but Bessa was the only one amongst them that truly wished she could. Arla stood at the bedroom she had chosen for herself, her left hand placed over a small screen attached to the wall nearest her bedroom door, she stared at it quizzically, wondering its’ function when quite suddenly the panel glowed green and shimmered around her hand. She retracted her hand immediately in shock and cried out, Bessa ran over to her to find out what was wrong and Reya walked over quickly, a frown on his face, “what is it?” He asked as he approached the two of them, Arla looked at him and then back at the panel, “it changed colour.” She said, staring at it with distrust. Reya looked at the blank screen and then back at Reya, “what?” He asked her, making her feel foolish. “It did!” She responded and placed her hand back on the panel which reacted in the same way it had before, “look, it turns green.” She said and with that the entire room, floor, walls and ceiling changed colour from white to green, the three of them shouted out in shock and rushed from the room, but Bessa laughed and walked back in. “Casra said we could change the colour.” The youngest girl stated as a matter of fact. Placing her hand on the panel she waited for it to glow and shimmer as before and then spoke loudly, “blue!” She looked around her as the room changed colour to match her desire. Bessa giggled and began naming every colour she could think of, watching the room change colour immediately at her command. Arla walked in to the room, pushed her sister out of her way and placed her hand on the screen, “white!” she ordered and the room’s colour’s faded back to what they were. She glared at her sister “this is my room, go change the colours in your own room!” Bessa grinned and ran to her own room, from which Arla and Reya could hear her little voice calling out differing colours.

Reya smiled at the sound but Arla clicked her tongue and placed her hand on the panel, “blue.” She spoke softly as the room changed around her, she looked at Reya and said simply, “I’m tired, I’m going to sleep.” Placing her hand on a smaller panel next to her door, it immediately closed and although she didn’t know how, she knew it would.

Reya jumped backwards from the door, startled but then relieved that he didn’t have to keep reassuring her, at least for the rest of the night. He walked past the middle room which had become Bessa’s and was now heavily decorated in purple with pink flowers, Bessa stood next to her door, her hand touching the colour changing screen, giving instructions as to how she would like her room coloured. The small girl grinned at Reya as he walked passed, he pointed at the smaller panel next to her, “that one closes the door.” He informed her. She looked at it and back at him, still grinning, “ok, see you in the…” she yawned as he continued on, “morning” came the quiet finalisation of her adjourn. “Good night” he responded and heard her door slide shut.

He closed his door behind him as he entered his room, and then stood facing the rest of his new domain. He placed his hand on the colours panel and gave his instructions, “light green, wood.” Reya didn’t know if his orders would work but watched as the walls around his room changed to look like wooden boards painted light green. He smiled to himself as he sat on his new bed. It was the softest thing he had ever felt, not coarse and hard like his bed in the village. He sat for a few moments, the realisation of what he had just thought striking him like a weight. His bed back home. His family back home. All gone now. He lay back on his bed and cried, for the first time in a very long time he cried until his soul ached and his heart pounded. Eventually he fell asleep, his body shivering still from his first true feelings of grief and the enormity of the last two days overwhelming him.

…………..

The voice spoke to them. As they slept the same voice penetrated their dreams and informed them. As it did pictures moved through their minds.

“Welcome to The House, you have been brought here because you are needed. You are needed for something very special. You are going to rescue the world from itself. In front of you is The House, it is called the Central Arena for Scientific Research and Analysis and as such the custodian of the House is called Casra. The House is built entirely out of mechanical construct intuitive technology, meaning that it can think and feel for itself, because of this it protects itself from any threat and also attunes itself to its inhabitants, making it possible to rearrange the inside of the House to replicate any scene, current or historical. The House is also equipped with Biological Construction Technology which enables it to create atomically perfect biological material, to the extent that it can replicate food, use any incumbent’s DNA to heal them and create BioCons, or biologically constructed people in order to undergo research or analysis. Casra is one such example of a BioCon.

The House has been built in the heart of Britain so that 500 acres of land can be used to produce and follow through with experiments. In the coming years we hope to develop new and exciting technologies that will help to further the advancement of mankind and aid in the healing of our world after the effects of Global Climate Change. We at the Department of Research and Development congratulate you on your entrance into the House and hope that you have an exciting and educational career.”

The voice trailed out to be replaced by the voice of Casra. Her face appeared in their minds as if she were speaking to them individually.

“Though you are too young and poorly educated to understand this information it is important that you at the least comprehend that what you have seen at the House and of me is not ‘magic’. The House and I were all created by people to do the work of people for the benefit of people. We are not evil, truly we do not have evil or good emotions. We are simply what we were made to be.”

The image in their minds turned as if to point to an object in the distance. Casra continued on, as she did so a large blue shape appeared next to her, beside it appeared a smaller blue shape. She spoke.

“The symbols which you see next to me represent the letter A, for the time being we will continue each night with educating you and bringing you up to the standards that your age requires. Let us begin. A makes the sound “ah” or “ay….”

Months passed, each night the children were educated to a level pre-set by Casra. She had made it clear that she expected each of them to reach her pre-set levels by the end of the year. In the beginning the situation was difficult, mainly due to Arla’s apprehension and the children’s joint distaste at having their dreams intruded upon. “Why do we have to learn when we’re asleep?” Reya asked Casra the day after their first night, “because that is when your minds are most receptive to repetitive learning, it leaves the day for the three of you to undertake self-progressive education.” She informed him. He stared at her blankly as she smiled at him and walked away. It was so obvious, he thought to himself, how could you not tell that she’s not a real person, and although he had no idea what a BioCon could be, he accepted that she must be one.

Bessa had taken to reading almost immediately. She loved the fact that all the writing in the books around her were open to her, and if there were any words she could not read or understand she had only to point at it with her finger, “explain” she would say, after she had been told the word by Casra, the House would recognise the word for her and speak it aloud along with a simplified meaning. Arla and Reya sat in front of the large, black, flat screen on the west wall. Which, it turned out, was capable of displaying pictures that moved, along with sound to accompany it. They could command it to stop and go back or forward as well as explain what they were seeing. They were transfixed. The idea that they could watch what they initially thought were real people moving around, talking to one another! Casra had programmed the “Television”, as she had called it, to show the children information and programs that contained relatively little to explain technologically but explained much to them in terms of historical reference.

This continued in like manner for some months. Each of them growing in knowledge and ability, being taught along the lines that interested them individually while at nights being educated with what Casra had referred to as “the fundamentals of education.” It was nearly a year since they had arrived at The House when Casra called them to speak with her. She had news for them that they would not like. “From tomorrow, you Reya, will no longer be educated while you sleep as you have been.” The woman informed him. At this Reya smiled, he had missed the simple ability to dream and welcomed the change, but Casra had not finished. “From tomorrow your individual active lessons will commence.” She glanced at each of them as she spoke raising her red eyebrows slightly to emphasise the change, “Reya, you will undergo a rigorous training regime that will last for some time. During which you will learn all that you will need in the outside world.” She observed him closely, making him feel more trepidation than he had before. “Because you are now old enough, your training will be highly physical and strenuous; you will most likely not enjoy it.” Casra finished explaining to him and turned to the girls. “Arla, Bessa you are both still too young to go through the same training as Reya, so you will both undergo physical training, this however will serve to prepare you both for the same training type which Reya is about to commence.” The girls looked at her, confused. “I don’t understand” Arla spoke first but asked the same question they all would have, “What do you mean physical training? And why is his dream learning being stopped and not ours?” She quizzed; Casra smiled her serene, inhuman smile and replied, “you will understand tomorrow.”