Crispin's Army
Chapter 16

Throughout the early winter, Crispin and his companions travelled from village to village, spreading their message.

The routine was much the same in each place. Except in a few cases where word of their coming had preceded them, they were generally met by suspicious guards at the perimeter of the village. A number of villages had erected elaborate defences as Vale had done, but not even the tiniest settlement was without guards watching all possible approaches for signs of raiders coming to steal from their barns and stores.

Stonewall Byres was typical. Lying to the north-west of Vale, in a sheltered combe below steep fells, the edge of a great empty sweep of moorland, the village depended for its livelihood on sheep farming and what it could grow in an unforgiving climate, supplemented, as usual, by hunting forays onto the moors. Its people had become adept at building the dry stone walls which gave it its name, using pieces of rock culled from the surrounding hillsides and arranging them carefully one on another in such a way that they would stand without mortar. They had most recently applied this technique to the construction of a redoubt, a stone fortification topped by a palisade, designed to deter would-be sheep rustlers. It was from this vantage point that Crispin’s party was observed as it approached.

By the time the travellers were within crossbow range of the wall, every member of the village had been alerted, and a number had taken up concealed positions which they would maintain until it had been established that the newcomers were friendly. Their number, sex and visible armament had been reported to the village elders, together with the guard’s estimation of whether they were village folk or foreigners or a mixture of the two.

“I would have said they were village folk,” Henrik the watchman declared, “judging from their clothes. But they’re all carrying city weapons.”

“Perhaps they are hoping to fool us with a disguise,” mused Ranald, the elder of Stonewall Byres. His village was well off the usual routes, and he had had little direct experience of the so-called foreigners. “Have them lay down their arms outside the wall, and watch them carefully,” he instructed.

These instructions were relayed to Crispin and his companions, and in what was becoming a familiar routine, they cheerfully complied, submitting to close body searches, Mina being examined by one of the village women, and all being subjected to close scrutiny.

The scene within the confines of the village was taking on an increasingly familiar air as well. Particularly in places such as Stonewall Byres, seemingly shoehorned into a niche in the terrain, the new homes built by foreigners were the first buildings to be encountered behind the protective wall, as this was the only place where space could be found for them. The unspoken wisdom that accompanied this was that if there should ever be an attack, the homes of the foreigners would be the first in the firing line, and if there should ever be any need to evict the resident foreigners from the village, it was thought it would be easier if they were closer to the edge of the village to start with.

In all the villages, even those such as Stonewall Byres, where only about four families of refugees from the city had made their home, Crispin and the others sensed an almost palpable undercurrent of mistrust between villagers and foreigners. Foreigners were never found mounting guard duty alone, they were always accompanied by at least a couple of villagers, and when, in the course of his explanation of their mission, Crispin explained that three of his companions were city-dwellers, there was always a furtive exchange of glances among his audience, always wondering if there were some conspiracy afoot between the city folk of their own village and Charlie, Nick and Mina.

So it was with Stonewall. The six travellers were led through the streets, surrounded by an armed guard, while their horses were unsaddled and unloaded and taken to a barn to be fed and watered. As village custom required, the companions were taken to the longhouse to warm themselves and partake of refreshment in the company of the village elder.

“Welcome,” said Ranald, his arms outstretched, as they approached his fireplace. He gave every indication of being genuinely pleased to see them. “We have so few visitors to bring us news of the outside world that we are truly pleased to see all who come to Stonewall Byres. It is my great regret that times have changed of late, and we must be seen not to trust the intentions of those who visit our village.” He had already identified Crispin as the leader of the group, and held him firmly in his gaze. “I feel sure you understand. Survival has become difficult for all as our resources become stretched to the limit, and in such circumstances, all scruples are forgotten.”

He spoke slowly and thoughtfully, as if weighing his every word, and sounded like one who had attained a great age, but unlike Master Torfinn, Ranald still had streaks of brown hair among the grey. It suddenly occurred to Crispin that the reason why he spoke so cautiously was that he had not been the elder for long, and was still becoming accustomed to the role. Many villages had followed Vale’s initiative in throwing out their elder and replacing him with a younger man who would accept the new code of open government. In those where the old guard remained in power, Crispin and his followers were regarded as troublemakers, and seldom stayed long.

“I pray you,” Ranald smiled, “tell us a little about yourselves, and tell us what it is that brings you to us.”

Crispin exchanged glances with Charlie and the others, and then looked rapidly around the longhouse at the faces of the curious villagers. The city people among them stood out, as always, generally gathered together in a group, distinguished by their city clothes. Crispin smiled to think how he must have appeared to people such as them when he had made his entry into Urbis.

“My name is Crispin,” he said simply. “I am from Vale.” It was, as always, the crucial moment, when the newcomers could truly determine the sort of reception they could expect for their news. If Ranald and his flock proved hostile, Crispin would state his business briefly and then they would journey on. If they were greeted more warmly, as was usually the case when a village leader saw Crispin as the instigator of his sudden elevation to a position of authority, then Crispin could afford to become more voluble and speak at greater length about his plans.

At this point in the proceedings, there were gasps, and a murmuring filled the room, as those who recognised his name explained to those who did not that this was the man who had travelled across a wilderness to the much talked-of city in order to rescue his wife. As this point was made, more gasps were heard, this time from those who had now been put in the picture.

“Crispin,” said Ranald with a smile. “Your name is well known to us, as is something of your exploits. You are welcome indeed.”

Crispin inclined his head in acknowledgement.

“We are honoured by your kindness towards us, Master Ranald,” he replied, taking in his companions with a sweep of his hand, and they bowed their heads and smiled. “The nature of our visit is this,” he continued. “My friends here include Arne and Nold, men of Vale both...”

“Welcome,” Ranald interjected. They smiled again.

“...And Charlie, Nick and Mina, city-dwellers and good and trusted friends of mine.”

“Welcome to you also,” Ranald added. “We have no ill will towards the people of the city.” He glanced towards the back of the hall. “We have some of you living among us. We know something of the sufferings you have endured.”

Crispin waited patiently for Ranald to finish before he resumed speaking.

“We know, for our part, that the sudden arrival of thousands of people from the city has created enormous difficulties for village folk, and we know from our own experience that there has been much dissension between the two groups. I expect also, that when the fighting has ended and talking has taken its place, the city folk have tried to apprise you of some of the things that have happened in Urbis. I am in something of a unique position as someone who has lived in both places, and have more of an understanding of both the city way of life and that of the country than most people.”

A murmur of assent filled the hall.

“This is why I have taken it upon myself, together with my friends here, to make this journey, calling at every village with an important message. It chiefly concerns the city-dwellers among you, but we have found in other places that we have visited that the village folk seem to take a keen interest in what we have to say. It may be that this is so here.” He paused momentarily. “It has been well over a year since the catastrophic morning when the troubles of Urbis began, and, so I have been told, it is likely that radiation will by now be dropping towards relatively safe levels. Most, if not all city-dwellers,” and at this point he glanced at Mina, aware at an almost unconscious level that she might be one of the exceptions, “are keen to return to the city. All of you risked great danger in journeying into the unknown to come here, and I know that many have perished along the way. Perhaps some of you have lost loved ones in this way. I propose, in the coming spring, to make a return journey to the city, and would like as many of you as possible to come with me. It seems to me that whatever barriers, physical and mental, have divided city from country for so long that each has utterly passed from the collective memory of the other, those barriers have now been broken down, and city and country will learn to live with each other. I intend, as part of the reason for the journey, to build a road across the mountains, a path that will allow travellers safe passage and reduce the dangers greatly. The road will be marked with stones from beginning to end, bridges will be built, and in the mountains, steps and even ladders will be built as permanent aids to travellers. And most importantly, in the mountains there will be huts to give shelter from the elements. This will be a great work, and there will indeed be much difficulty and danger involved. But it will be child’s play in comparison with what awaits us in Urbis. For there, as I’m sure you are all aware, there is a war going on, and the first task for us will be to win the war. For this reason, any who choose to join with us in this venture will be asked to declare their allegiance to the Underground in pursuit of a just and democratic society.”

He stopped for breath and looked around. As usual, he was greeted by a stunned silence as his audience drank in the full meaning of his words. For city and village people alike, their world had been turned upside down, but most had nurtured the idea that the present state of affairs was simply a temporary aberration, and that once it was all over, things would go back to being the way they had always been. Crispin was telling them that this could not be, that things had changed for good, and that they would change more.

Watching their faces, Crispin began to gauge the response he might expect. It varied from village to village, but at least he was certain that on his return to Urbis he would not be alone. He had thought back many times to that morning when he had set off from Vale, alone and afraid, never dreaming of what awaited him on his road. He exchanged glances with Arne: he had at first been deeply resentful that his old friend had refused to join him in his quest, but he had long since made his peace. And at least Tana had come out of the whole business alive, even if a changed person: Arne’s Melissa had escaped from the nightmare of the city only to die in his arms.

“It does not stop there, however,” Crispin continued. “Once the battle is won and the new order established, huge areas of the city will need to be rebuilt, and we will need to think very carefully about what we are doing when we rebuild, in order to avoid the mistakes of the past. All of this will take years. Urbis will rise again from the ashes, but it will rise slowly.”

He felt himself going hoarse. He looked at Charlie, and Charlie took the hint and stepped forward to complete the evening’s business.

“We would like you to take a little time to consider, ladies and gentlemen, and then let us know how many of you think you would be interested in coming with us to Urbis in the spring. For those who are interested, we will tomorrow conduct classes in the use of laser weapons.”

The response from Stonewall Byres was much as might be expected. All four Urbian families welcomed the chance to return to their city, and saw travel in a large, co-ordinated group as a better option than struggling back in little knots. Half a dozen of Stonewall’s own single young men also expressed eagerness to join the fray, including Ranald’s own son Gawain. Ranald watched with sadness mingled with pride as his son presented himself as a volunteer, sorely tempted to use his power as elder to restrain him, but unable to replace it in his heart to deny his son the opportunity of adventure.

Others recognised that while the winter might be hard, the departure of so many in the spring would instantly alleviate the problem of food shortages, and welcomed the exodus.