Chapter 4 - Rock and Metal
V carefully moved through the dark tunnels with care, more than ever before to not soil the tunic turned dress in the filth-streaked earthen tunnels. Her eyes had difficulty adjusting to the darkness. An afterglow of the flames imposed itself over her vision, a fog like bright haze all but blinding her. She managed to stay clear of the walls with a guiding hand. Dwelling in the warren and skulking overland in the dead of night was the order of the night and now the warren was coming alive as the day-walkers woke the night-prowlers. The rumble of thunder through the warrens would only hasten this change over.
The sounds of bickering carried through the tunnels, round the bends and from one room to another. The way it carried was deliberately confusing to the ear, but it was no surprise when the two brothers rolled down and crashed into the far wall of the tunnel before her. Of the dozens of feuding kin in the warrens few were stupid enough to fight in the twisting pathways between the chambers.
Recognizing Rock by his half-bitten off right ear and the other wearing a metal bangle as a thick gaudy necklace as Metal, she slinked back as she watched the tussle. They were about as intelligent as their self-declared names were. The scouting rats were smarter than both of them combined, but what they lacked in brains they made up for in brawn and violent attitude. Ear pulling, biting, slapping, scratching, and grappling one another. Nothing truly violent by either Gobbo. Metal seized a scrap of hard bread from his younger brother. Rising up in the small of the tunnel with a victorious exclamation of, “Heeeeheeeee mine!” the fight had come to a predictable end.
He grinned and took a huge bite out of the hard mass and laughed triumphantly, but Rock in his defeat noticed something far more valuable, “Cloth! Brother! V has clothing!”
“Eh what?” Metal’s head turned to look, and he passed the bread to Rock, “Mine!”
Bounding forward, hands and feet scrambled towards her in a lizard-like skitter, V could barely react. Hands reached out to seize the cloth and she recoiled, somehow slipping past that desperate leap. Her bald head grazed the top of the ceiling as she rushed towards Rock, barely at a crouch in the narrow confines. Rock rolled upright and tried to snatch her as she darted down the tunnel, further into the depths.
“Head her off!” Metal ordered as he pursued her. The tunnel system having numerous interconnected pathways of which to ambush one another meant she had to sprint for the safety of the Great Mother’s den or else they would catch her and strip her. Clothing was a status symbol, and many would fight to the death over a single garment.
“Leave me alone!” she cried out as she darted behind a bend and ran through the Hunter’s quarters. Four hunters preparing for the nightly raids watched with curiosity as she sprinted into the room.
“QUED!” howled her pursuer, gaining ground as she still attempted to keep the brown tunic unsoiled. None helped, but he was faster. As she entered a long descending straight, he closed the gap.
“GREAT MOTHER!” she yelled as her left leg was snared by a tight grip, the sharp fetid nails digging into her flesh. Blood streaked down her leg as his fingers flexed and dug in like hooks into her left calf.
“GOT YA!” Metal pulled hard and raised his arm to unbalance V.
Spinning on the palms of her hands, she rolled and stomped her right foot right into his bulbous nose. The hard flesh flattening, blood erupting. His howl of pain turned to a vicious and murderous growl as he dug further into her flesh, refusing to let go. Another kick. Another. Another! Smashed repeatedly yet unyielding, she turned to look at Metal just as Rock appeared at the far end of the tunnel. Trapped between the two, she was unable to overpower them.
Rock had not come to his brother for aid. He wanted the tunic for himself. His hands quickly moved to strip it off her back as she was brought down on all fours. Grabbing the hem and pulling it up, he succeeded in only snaring it against her armpits where the cloth bundled and caught. Pulling with all his might, V arched back and straightened like an arrow before it could be torn apart. The sudden lack of resistance carried him off his feet and down on his back with his prize in hand. As Metal pulled, V snapped her foot back, twisting the whole of her body and pivoting on her palms, her legs drifting lower and straight into the center of his pot belly.
Her left foot dug into his guts as she pushed herself backwards, but instead of falling he grunted and stood in place. A fleeting thought surged through her, and she let out a piercing scream; strength spilled forth from deep within her. With her right foot she swung it up, arching to her head in a wide arc. With the movements of a graceful dancer, she twisted herself again as her right foot snapped down. Heel to neck. Finding enough to push against, she thrust herself forward and knocked the wind out of him. Her left leg was freed. As Metal recoiled, she fell onto the other brother, dropping her knees into Rock’s stomach. With a shrieking grunt his hands moved to get her off of him, but she was already on the move. Snatching the tunic up, she stepped on his face and bounded forward in a desperate scramble that became a life-or-death sprint. Bloodthirsty howls of murderous rage erupted, and they gave chase.
There was no turning back now. All the more reason to leave the warren. Could the Great Mother even save her now? Run! Run! Faster! Run!
A primal roar came from just behind her as Metal clawed at her feet, but the end was in sight now. A thick rug curtain marked the den of the Great Mother in the deepest depths of the warren, and few dared to disturb her. V plowed through the thick rug, tucking and rolling as she passed the heavy barrier. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw further down the tunnel. Another thick rug at the far end. Another!? The stagnant air was immediately noticeable. Struggling to breathe she forced herself forward without having to worry about soiling the tunic in her arms. Just a little further. Just one more barrier. Make it!
The two brothers pursued her, but the rug tripped them up over one another, rolling over one another before clawing after her. The bloodlust and growling sounded wild, feral even. All the rage proved for naught as she thrust her shoulder into the rug and fell into the den of the Great Mother with a desperate cry, “Great Mother! Help!”
The interior of the den was aglow with purple and green lichen that lined the great circular room, but it paled in comparison to flames of the burning brazier in the center of the room and the large figure standing before it. Even Agog’s flame was pitiful in comparison. The Great Mother turned to the source of the intrusion, the mass of tattered shreds whirling as a black cloak about her towering form swirled about in a wondrous dance of silver and gold. Her great nose, large ears and innumerable wrinkles on her cracked face spoke of an age far beyond any other in the warren. The Great Mother had been ‘Great’ long before her mother was born, before any of the elders in fact. While most could measure their years by their hands and toes; the Great Mother used generations.
“Such bedlam!” the Great Mother’s voice creaked and hissed in irritation.
The folds of her brow nearly blinded her, but she caught sight of V’s tunic as the two brothers emerged from behind the curtain and the old crone raised her hand to the brazier and picked up a chunk of smoldering charcoal. It whisked over V’s head and struck Rock. Another coal was already in hand, by the time they fled through the thick rug turned curtain.
“Great Mother.” V watched in awe.
“Ah…” she tossed the coal back into the brazier, disappointment in her voice, “More and more brazen.”
The Great Mother slowly made her way forward. Unlike other members of the Gobbi Tribes, the Great Mother had been blessed with an unnaturally long life and in that time had become so shriveled and twisted with age that her appearance itself was physically revolting to most. The wrinkled mass of her flesh was akin to gatorskin, hard and unyielding. The flaps of skin hanging from her arms might as well have been bat’s wings before they turned as hard and unyielding. Barkskin. No tooth or claw could harm her. Time had made her strong in strange and magical ways.
“Great Mother?” V said as she got up and maintained a hunched position, bowing her head in respect, “It is V. Thank you for saving me.”
The Great Mother’s face ever so slightly twitched, was that wrinkled mass beginning to make a smile? It was impossible to tell if gaunt cheekbones had twitched higher or if she simply was opening her mouth to chide her, “Vinaraeya.”
“Great Mother!” V rushed forward to hug her.
The small girl buried herself into the tattered scraps of her cloak and kept repeating the same words over and over again. Soot and ash from the cloak splotched her face long before the river of joyous tears flowed. The Great Mother slowly embraced her as she let out a soft whisper, “Let it all out, child. The night is young, and I have all the time in the world for you.”