Hidden Enemies. Steve Reilly
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because you think she’s gone? Just keep looking.”
The men moved out of earshot. They had not seen Camille wrapped in leaves, laying quietly. The words tumbled over each other in her head. So this is why her mother had died, so that someone could make claim to the farm, and she was to be hunted down like an animal so that she could not stop them. Waves of grief crashed over her throughout the day, unchecked tears blurring her vision and thoughts. Night again settled over the farm and Camille still lay huddled in the bush. She could trust no one around the town. At some point the sun had set without her noticing so she crept out from the bush and turned to leave. There was no need to pack or prepare for the journey - she had nothing to take. She turned her back on the two piles of ash and began to walk.
It did not take long before she had left the farm behind. The ploughed fields offered little to slow her progress but little protection from discovery. She stumbled through the night, unthinking and unseeing. The death of her mother had left her drained but she knew that she had to keep walking. She didn’t see the moon as it sailed across the clear night sky, nor the beauty of the stars. With morning approaching, her instincts drove her to seek shelter from searching eyes. She entered a small grove of trees nearby which offered protection. Thinking was too much for her. She slept through the day until, with the sun falling low in the western sky, she prepared to leave.
She stepped out of the trees to begin her night’s walk but the beat of a startled bird flapping its way into the sky beside her made her jump. Its big black wings carried it into the air and when she turned at the sound she saw the riders on horseback coming over the low hill behind her. She quickly ran back to the little hiding place where she had slept and watched. As the riders grew closer Xavier’s red hair became obvious and she could hear his words.
“I saw something move back in here. It could have been the girl. Don’t let her get away.”
Xavier had seen her! She didn’t know what to do. There was not much cover and she could not outrun them. They were going to find her. The men dismounted, leaving their horses at the edge of the trees. They formed a line and began to work their way slowly through the grove, checking everywhere as they passed. She huddled behind the little bush as the line of men approached. One of Xavier’s men was only six feet in front of her. Discovery seemed certain when loud squealing and crashing further up the line distracted him. A large wild boar charged out of the bush and into one of the men. It knocked him down, ripping at the man’s leg with its dirty yellow tusks before charging at the horses. The men ran to intercept it but the boar turned and disappeared out over the open land. Xavier ordered someone to see to the injured man and turned to look back into the trees.
“That must have been what I saw,” he told them after some thought. “Get that leg bound and we’ll move on.”
Camille lay still until the men had disappeared over the next hill before emerging. She waited in the trees for the next hour, eating a meal of wild mulberries before resuming her trek. She was near the top of the hill where she had last seen the men when a raven landed in front of her. She stopped, taking in the beauty of the bird. Its feathers shone a deep blue black, a glistening darkness. The eyes that watched her were big and yellow. She stood transfixed by those eyes. They seemed to look into her. She felt that the bird was trying to warn her. She looked up the hill and decided that caution was preferable to discovery. A group of rocks at the top of the hill would provide cover and a view beyond. She approached as silently as she was able. The light was fading but she could see that Xavier had stopped his men and lined then across the land in front of her. He had obviously thought she had used the trees for shelter and would move again under the cover of dark. She turned back down the hill and began to circle them. Once she felt safely clear she set out as fast as she was able before morning would force her to take cover again.
Over the next days she travelled across open pasture with gentle rolling hills, dotted here and there with pockets of trees. She stayed away from the few roads that wandered aimlessly between the farms, climbing the occasional fence that attempted to bar her way. When the sun began to lighten the eastern sky each day she found a comfortable hollow or bush and crawled in. Visions of her mother defiant in a tower of flame kept returning to her each night. She tried to understand why their friends had turned on them but it made no sense. She would wake disoriented and confused with the sun low in the afternoon sky. Thornberry bushes or other plants and trees provided her with fruit when she needed it. Then, as the darkness began to claim the land, she continued her walk.
During this time she saw Xavier and his men twice more. On each occasion she was able to hide and evade capture among some bulrushes that fought for survival beside a nearly dry creek and in a hollow that was once used to hold water for stock. Then they seemed to lose her, or she lost them, because she did not see them for weeks. There were fewer farms and roads. The low hills were now covered with bush and scrub and groves of dry trees were more common than wheat or barley.
One night as she trekked through thickening scrub she discovered a rarely used narrow trail. A waning moon lit the way. She could see no movement in either direction. Though her instincts still told her to stay away from people, walking along the trail would be easier. Comfort overcame discretion. She stepped out and began to follow the trail. As she travelled north the hills became taller and the farms were left behind. She felt safer with each mile she travelled. She did not know or care how far she had travelled. Walking north was all that mattered.
As night threatened to settle over the land yet again Camille started her trek through a small wooded vale. The moon was peeking over the distant hills when a movement broke the numbness of her mind. A raven stood perched on a low bough in front of her. It watched her with a steady gaze. Camille wondered if it could be the same bird. Time and movement were frozen as she watched the raven. Finally the bird broke the spell when it raised its head and looked back over Camille’s shoulder. It glanced quickly back at Camille before once again looking back down the road. Finally it stood tall, spread its night-dark wings and with one brief squawk leapt from the branch and disappeared into the trees beside the road. Camille looked over her shoulder and, without understanding why, followed the raven into the trees.
Moments later she heard the sound of horses and watched as the group of riders approached, laughing and apparently in good spirits. One man however stood out from the group. He rode in the lead on a dappled grey stallion, his long mass of dirty red hair bouncing in harmony with the gait of the horse. They rode slowly by and disappeared down the road. Camille stood in the trees long after the riders had gone. The monotony had suddenly turned to fear and now the fear receded. Now there was relief. She wondered what drove these men to continue their chase. Movement once again distracted her as the silent black bird landed on a branch beside her. The yellow eyes again seemed to capture her before the raven leapt forward, turned and flew down the road. Camille knew the raven was telling her it was safe to go.
She continued to walk through the night. Something had changed within her during the trek. She was now aware of everything around her. The riders had again woken her to the dangers she faced, even this far from the place she had known as home. The countryside had changed considerably from the area around Thistledowne. The track wound through an area where the steep hills were littered with rocks and trees. Ahead of her a tall and unforgiving mountain range rose above the land. Even from this distance the peaks looked imposing. Her mother had spoken of these mountains at a time when she was a girl sitting in front of the warm winter fire. The thought of those times brought tears back to her eyes but she roughly wiped them on her sleeve. She remembered her mother telling her that people did not live in those mountains but she could not recall her mother ever giving her a reason. This would be her goal. She would go into the mountains to hide and consider her future.
Each day brought her closer to the mountains. The days and nights were becoming cooler. The small roads and trails were left far behind and there had been no indications of habitation for many days. There had been no sign of Xavier and his men since they had ridden past her so long ago that she had felt it safe enough to begin walking during the day. Camille stood looking up at the white-topped peaks. The mountains grew out of the land, the steep rock faces disappearing into the clouds above. Around her the trees and plants were greener and the grasses looked healthier than the plants of Thistledowne had ever looked. Between her and the mountains stood a