Gateways 07_ What Lay Beyond - Diane Carey [108]
Sure enough, after less than an hour, he heard sounds. The noise was not that of wheels in mud, but of concerned voices. There was definitely a problem, so he quickened his pace and hurried forward. Within a few minutes, the road rounded a bend and he saw the remains of a wagon teetering over a huge rock and pinning a man underneath. The wide, low platform, filled with bales of something akin to hay, seemed stable, but the axle for the rear wheels had splintered over the rocky path. The man was conscious and moaning, clearly in pain. Watching in fear were women and children, dressed differently from people in the village Picard had visited. These had on lighter-colored clothing that seemed actually spun from natural materials as opposed to the skins the villagers wore. Physically they were the same, even down to the long hair.
Picard saw they were paralyzed to the point of inaction, so he stepped forward and approached the wagon. “Don’t be scared, help has arrived,” he said.
The woman behind him had stopped wailing and stared at him. He heard a whisper or two but it had grown fairly silent except for the trapped man’s moans.
It was clear that the lighter gravity would allow Picard a physical advantage, so all he needed to do was lift up an edge of the wagon so the man could be freed. He took several deep breaths, focusing his energies. Then, placing his back to the wagon, he firmly gripped the corner, planted his feet far apart, and began exerting his strength.
As expected, the wagon full of hay made the effort tough, but his muscles responded and he strained. Not a young man anymore, Picard prided himself in staying physically fit and knew he was up to the challenge. He gritted his teeth and continued to apply pressure, finally feeling the wagon rise.
“Quickly, come clear him away!” Picard ordered, not wanting to shift his focus.
The women hesitated, but three of the children, most seeming around ten years old, rushed forward and tugged at the man’s exposed leg. He grunted louder than Picard, making for an odd duet. Finally, Picard could tell he’d have to let go in a matter of moments, as the children continued to slowly drag the man away.
Finally, the man was clear and Picard let the heavy wood slip from his fingers. It shattered some more as it resettled itself against the rocks but he doubted anyone would care. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Picard saw that the man was having his leg tended to by one woman while another was giving him water.
He took a drink himself and then slowly walked over to check on the injured person.
“You saved him, thank you, Young God!”
“Yes, thank you, Young God.”
Picard was feeling particularly uncomfortable for being repeatedly singled out and called a god. It made sense that there would be mores and beliefs carried from village to village but he was nothing like a god.
“Will he be all right?”
“I think so,” the woman responded.
“Good, then I will be on my way.” Picard turned toward the path, hoping to make a fast escape from these emotionally distraught people.
“Why leave us so quickly, Young God?” The speaker was a young girl, one of the children who helped him.
“I must go to the City,” he replied.
“Stay so we can thank you properly,” she said.
“I wish I could, but I must hurry.”
“The sun is going down, you won’t make it there today,” she argued. “At least let us feed you supper.”
Picard glanced at the sky and noticed it growing deeper in color, and that it was beginning to cool. He had hoped to glimpse the City today but it seemed not to be. There was safety in numbers, he knew, and the man might need attention. It seemed decided for him so he smiled at her and accepted the invitation.
Within an hour, the area was transformed into a small campsite with vegetables being grilled on a small fire. Lean-tos were established by the forest’s edge, and the boy had brought back water from