Vada(Neil Hotson) It seemed to Danus that, if he stayed still and did nothing, his life would evolve just as fully as if he was pursuing his dream. Danus was pondering the virtue of laziness as he sat on a log at the edge of the forest. The log was dry and rested at an awkward angle on the bed of leaves which had fallen that autumn. He was well wrapped up against the early morning chill and looked forward to the mist clearing and the prospect of sunshine. The forest covered a large area and was well managed; Danus had worked there for twelve years. He had dreamt that night of a man who had wasted his life and then, on his deathbed, regretted it bitterly. It was the dream which now made him think.

He walked toward his hut, his decision made.

It was midday by the time he was ready to leave. Food, some water, and the map he had redrawn on waking, were securely contained within his canvas sack. The map had been kept in an old box above his bed for three years. An old map, yes, one which had been lucky to survive; he had found it while working in the forest. It was wrapped in oilskin and he thought it such an unusual object that he had waited till the end of the day and only opened it that evening in his hut. It was quite a rough map, as maps go; he could see the forest depicted but the other landmarks were quite strange to him. There was no harm in a few days walking, a few days to break from work and be a boy again. The map had an unusual scale, and he did wonder how long it would take to reach the castle which had been sketched on the parchment.

As Danus left the clearing he turned to take a last look at his hut. It was well made, warm and dry, and had served him well for the past twelve years. Working in the forest was good, he just needed a break and the map provided the excuse. The clearing disappeared from his sight and he climbed slowly up to the ridge on the south side of the forest. The map showed a path from the west end of the ridge which led to a settlement. He would reach the village by nightfall, if he had guessed the scale of the map correctly, and would spend the night there.

Danus strode out, he was only in his mid thirties and the strength of youth had not yet begun to wither. He had armed himself with his bow and a large hunting knife was sheathed and dangled at his side. Long plaited hair and skin, tanned from a life of outdoor work, gave him a handsome and rugged appearance.

Covering ground quickly he passed along the ridge and then down to the heathland.
Another traveller appeared in the middle distance; a man heavily laden with firewood.
As they met on the path Danus greeted him in the customary way.

“My life is yours,” he said and smiled.

“No, my life is yours, my friend,” replied the traveller.

Danus lowered his sack to the ground. “Have you far to go today?” he asked the man.

“Not so far, not so near. I have a hut on the far hill, and you?”

Danus unfurled the map and showed it to the traveller. “I’m heading for this settlement. It doesn’t look far away; do you know of it?”

The man dropped his firewood, some of the dry twigs cracking as they hit the ground. “Yes, about four hours, four hours of steady walking. But why go there?” asked the traveller.

“Why not? I’m walking the route written on this parchment, it’s something I’ve thought of doing since I found it,” said Danus.

“The village is called Sequistrum. Don’t go there, it’s a void village.”

“What!” retorted Danus.

“A void place. You must know what that is. It’s been taken over by the river people.”

“I’ve heard of them, but they’re not well known in the forest. They say it’s because we are too far from the river, anyway they have never troubled us. I want to follow the map as closely as possible,” said Danus.

“Then be careful, they are unpredictable; I wouldn’t like to be under their control.”

Danus picked up his sack and said goodbye to the traveller. He was thinking of the journey and decided to keep going until he reached the village; he would eat and spend the night there. He loved autumn and its purple heather; the smell of the forest at that time of year gave him such joy after the sweltering heat of summer. After three hours of walking he stopped atop a small hillock and gazed into the far distance. He could see smoke coming from the ground; the village was closer than he thought. He drank some water and continued.

Arriving at the village he entered through the open gate, passing many village people who were engaged in their daily chores. Occasionally a man would pass by dressed in a green coat. He knew these to be river people, those that lived along the rivers of the country. The river people dominated the flood plains, they used their greater intelligence and business acumen to infiltrate and control the villages near to the rivers, but seemed to be uninterested in going further afield.

Danus walked between the first two huts of the village. The first, on the right, had a circle painted in white above the entrance door. He knew this to be the hut of the apothecary. Each village had to ensure knowledge of medicines was passed down through the generations, or the village would be left bereft; a chosen woman and her daughter shared all there was to know and the daughter would, in time, pass her knowledge on to her daughter, and so it went on.

A tap on his shoulder, he turned.

“This is not your settlement, where are you from?” asked a tall man who wore a tattered green hessian coat.

“The forest, the large forest to the north-east of here. I’m on a journey and seek food and shelter,” replied Danus with some trepidation in his voice.

“We are the custodians of this settlement, do you know of us?” the man asked Danus.

“You are of the river, I know. I have not had dealings with you, the forest governs itself.”Danus didn’t want to say more so he started to walk away and toward a large hut which looked as if it took travellers. The eyes of the man followed him but nothing more was said between them.

Danus reached the large hut; donkeys were hitched up on a rail outside and bawdy laughter was issuing from within. He entered and saw a large rectangular table with men seated around. They were eating a hot stew of meat and vegetables which was being served by a woman. Flagons and platters covered the table and were replenished regularly by another, much younger, woman.

A stout man came up to him and he gave several coins from his purse and sat as directed at the table. At the centre of the hut a wood fire burnt and smoke rose slowly up through the centre of the roof. The older woman came up to him and placed a large bowl of stew at his front. He took bread from one of the platters and ate.

The old woman whispered. “I saw you talking to one of the river people, on your way here. They control us and will control you if you let your guard down.”

Danus looked into her eyes. “They can’t touch me, I’m not of the village.”

She smiled a wry smile. “They will watch you; if you have anything they want they will take it, they are the law in this village.” The woman left him to eat and he ate well and drank water and ale from his cup.

Danus’ cup emptied quickly and the young woman replaced the flagon nearest to him. He smiled at her; she made a furtive smile in return.

“This is fine dining, I thank you,” he said.

The young woman now looked surprised. “I trust we serve well and I thank you for your kind words.”

Danus drank from his cup and relaxed.“I’m on a journey, some may say a foolish one. I found a map in the forest where I work. I am determined to walk the route and reach the castle which is shown.”

“That is an exciting thing to do,” said the woman,“they say men will not leave their childhood behind and I see you too need adventure.”

The servant continued after searching the floor of the hut with her eyes.“We are not free to leave; you saw the masters of the village?”

“Yes, but you are not enslaved,” replied Danus after he too had quickly scanned the hut.

“But we can’t move. They will not let us leave for another settlement and they take a good proportion of our wealth. We still have a good living as you can see from the repast before you, but we are not free.”

The woman saw the landlord look at her. “I must get on with my work,” and she returned to the kitchen of the hut.

Danus finished his meal, moved to the sacks at the corner of the hut and sank into them. Other men had done the same and some were engaged in conversation while others dozed. He reached inside his coat and pulled out the map. He would walk for three days along the route, if the scale was too large he would turn back and try again during the next summer. His work in the forest was important and he knew he must look after his position as an experienced hand.

He turned to look at the men close to him. They were dressed in rough grey garments similar to his own and he thought most were village people as they had no burden. The fire in the centre of the hut was beginning to dim as he moved to the sleeping area above the ground floor, and lay down on the straw to sleep.

The first sound he heard after waking was the grunt of pigs as they were herded down the main path of the village. He washed his face in the communal trough and eat another fine meal as his breakfast. The landlord nodded to him as he made his exit and he started the walk toward the village gates. There was an autumn chill in the air and a low sun which gave promise of another fine day; day two of his journey.

Behind the hut were living quarters, and, as he made past them, a quiet voice whispered,“take me with you, please.”

He recognised the voice instantly; it was the voice of the young woman who had talked to him the evening before, the pretty woman with long black hair and a lean athletic face. Danus saw her standing in the doorway. She had a sack of belongings over her shoulder and wore the kind of garments a field worker would wear, ideal for walking.

“Why do you ask this, we do not know each other beside a short meeting?” asked Danus.

“I do not like it here; the landlord treats me well but we are always watched by our masters. They take village girls for marriage and now I am grown up, I worry.”

A man in a green top coat walked along the side of the hut and stopped when he saw that they were in conversation. He was armed with a club at his hip and he stared at Danus. The woman ran behind Danus and clung to his belt as the riverman approached. Danus had his woodman’s knife unsheathed within a second. As the riverman charged, swinging his club above his head, Danus deftly pierced his chest to the hilt. Very little noise emanated from the dying man. Danus grabbed the coat of the young woman and ran with her to the gates; once through the exit they followed the path.

“We must leave the path,” said Danus,“ they will catch us in minutes if we make it easy for them.” He pulled her as fast as he could get her to move and they scrambled up a small hill and into a group of trees. “I’m sorry I have put you in danger; we are both hunted now and I am sorry.”

The woman looked straight into his eyes. “Killing is wrong but I see that you had no alternative. The riverman would have punished us for our affront to their authority and we are better off with the hand that fate has dealt us.”

They heard the sound of running, lower down on the path, and they stayed as still as their heaving hearts would allow. After a few minutes the sound of the pursuing rivermen waned and they decided it was safe to continue away from the path, keeping low and staying close together. After a while they walked upright, now confident they had evaded the posse.

“What is your name,” asked Danus of his new companion.

“Vada,” she replied.

“There is something about you that I like Vada, that I like very much. I wish we had met in other circumstances than this,” sighed Danus.

“Where are we going now,” she asked.

“I have lost my way a little,” the woodman replied, as he looked at the parchment map.

Vada smiled, “My mother lives nearby, let us go there for the night. Then, in the morning, we can continue our adventure.”

It was dark when the fugitives arrived at the settlement, to find Vada’s mother cooking her evening meal in a well appointed hut in the centre of the village. After Vada explained that the river people left the village, enabling their own flight, the mother seemed agitated.

Danus talked of the forest where he lived and the mother listened, gazing at her daughter from time to time. He showed his map and laughed at the foolishness of his quest.

A blade slid quite smoothly into his back, and, as he slipped off his stool and onto the floor, his body turned and he glimpsed a green coat.
The room darkened and was lost but he could hear the sound of running water... briefly.

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