Chapter 2
Catherine smiled to herself as she looked at Mouse’s head, bobbing along in front of her. He seemed to be absolutely tireless. They’d been walking for four hours without a break, and Catherine needed to rest, but Mouse moved along with that bouncy step as if he’d just come from a long sleep.
"Mouse? Mouse…"
He turned to look at her, slowing, but not stopping. "Got to keep going. Never catch up with Vincent, but got to keep going."
She smiled again. "I understand that you can keep going, but Mouse, I’m getting very tired."
His face fell. "Tired? Stop now, we’ll rest…here." Without any hesitation he plopped down in the middle of the path, dropping his pack on the ground.
Catherine decided he was right, this place was as good as any. She unslung the pack she was carrying, and sat down beside him, opening her warm tunnel jacket, Mary’s thoughtful provision, along with woolen trousers and a parting hug. "Oh! That’s a lot better. Shall we have something to eat, Mouse? William has packed a lot of good things for us."
Mouse’s face brightened. "OK, good. What’s there?"
"My gosh, there’s enough here for an army. No wonder it’s so heavy! Here’s bread and cheese, and two pears, and…oh look, Mouse, blueberry muffins!"
"Muffins are good. Let’s have muffins?"
Catherine spread the cloth wrapping on the tunnel floor and they picnicked on muffins and cheese, with cold water from an underground spring
"Told you water’d be good. Said so, didn’t I?"
"Yes, Mouse, you were right to fill our bottles there."
"Mouse knows all the good places." He nodded complacently; satisfied that Catherine appreciated his capabilities.
"Do you know where he is, Mouse? For sure?" She had been wondering for some time if he was leading her in the right direction.
His brows drew down. "Not for sure. Can’t tell for sure." He brightened. "Think so, though. Pretty sure."
"Well, if you’re pretty sure, that’s good enough for me." She smiled at him, amused at the transparent pleasure her words brought to his face, but what she had said was true. She knew that he’d found Vincent before, and besides, what other choice did she have? They’d go on, in what she devoutly hoped was the right direction. And if we’re lost Vincent will find us, her mind whispered.
But after another four hours of walking, she was beginning to wonder. And she was exhausted. "Mouse, where are we? Is there any place we could stop to spend the night?"
"Don’t know."
"You don’t know? What don’t you know? Where we are, or where to spend the night?"
He hunched his shoulders and hung his head, looking up at her from under his brows. "Don’t know where we are, can’t know where to spend the night." Then he brightened. "Doesn’t matter where we are. Going to Vincent. He knows."
Catherine smiled wryly. It was too late now to worry about it. "Well, we’ve got to get some sleep. Any suggestions?"
"Lay down." His face was guileless; he meant exactly what he said.
They had something to eat, and then unrolled a bedroll for each of them and lay down, as Mouse had suggested.
><><><><><><
When Catherine awoke, there was dancing firelight on the walls. "Mouse, you made a fire. Good, it’s cold!" She sat up slowly, stiff from a night on the stone floor, and look around her.
T
he
cloaked form sitting on the other side of the little fire was not Mouse.
"Vincent?"
The figure moved slightly, looking up, and the firelight brought the furred nose and chin and one blue eye out of the shadows. At length he spoke, very low. "Yes."
Catherine had no idea what to say. She hadn’t thought she would see him so soon, and she’d been putting off trying to decide how to approach him. I’ll know when I see him, she’d thought, but now that she was facing him she didn’t know, so she spoke of practical considerations, avoiding the subject she’d come to talk about. "Where did the firewood come from?"
"I brought it with me."
"Where’s Mouse?"
"I sent him back."
"Oh. Alone?"
"He got here alone. Once he’s been on a route, he knows it." He paused. "…He is…inquisitive."
Catherine understood. Vincent was afraid that she wouldn’t be discreet, and he couldn’t bear to have Mouse witness anything between them. Well, she probably wouldn’t have been discreet. She could think of nothing else to say about it, so she said, "Have you eaten? I’m hungry."
"There is food here." He slid a packet of food a little way in her direction.
"Thank you." She got out of her blankets and came to sit across the fire from him. She took a slice of bread and some cheese from the food he had offered, and began to eat silently, eying him furtively as she did so. He seemed very withdrawn, almost angry. "Vincent…are you angry?"
He said nothing for a minute or two. Then: "It was
wrong of Father to send you so far with only Mouse."
She was somewhat nonplussed by this statement, but she guessed he meant that that was what he was angry about. "I had to come. Vincent, I…" She paused, not knowing yet quite how to start the discussion.
"There is no need for talk. If you are finished, we should be on our way."
"Where are we going?"
He looked at her. "Back, of course." He began to pick up the remains of the food.
She turned to her bedroll, meaning to pack it up, but he forestalled her.
"I’ll do that."
When he began to transfer the contents of her pack to his own, she put her hand out to stop him. "I’m perfectly capable of carrying a pack, Vincent."
He stopped what he was doing, but didn’t raise his head. In a moment he spoke again. "As you wish. The bedrolls are bulky but not heavy. You will not find them difficult to carry."
In silence she waited while he put out the fire and picked up the traces of their presence. He filled her pack with his bedroll as well as hers, transferred the sizeable package of food she had carried to his, and helped her into the straps. Then he put the contents of Mouse’s food pack into his pack, out of which several unlit torches protruded. He motioned for her to precede him, and they started down the tunnel without a word spoken.
Catherine walked along, wondering how to get through to him. He seemed absolutely closed, unwilling even to talk to her, much less discuss what had happened. She thought of a dozen ways to approach it, none of which seemed feasible. Her mind groped back and forth over the problem without progress, fatigue making her thinking fuzzy. She was still very tired from yesterday’s long trek and an uncomfortable night’s sleep on the tunnel floor. As the time passed and Vincent seemed intent on getting her back to the Hub as quickly as possible, she began to be annoyed.
"Catherine."
She stopped and turned.
"The tunnel gets darker from here on, and the floor is uneven. I will lead."
He passed by her without a further word, and walked on.
"Vincent!"
He stopped, but didn’t turn.
"We need to talk."
"I don’t wish to talk. I’m going on now." And he began to walk away.
That did it. Her temper flared, and she sat down in the middle of the tunnel. In a second or two, Vincent became conscious that she wasn’t behind him, and turned. He stood for a moment, and then strode back to her.
"Catherine, I…" His shoulders slumped, and his head went down. "I can’t talk to you about this yet. I have…I am…Please!" He shrugged helplessly, turning away from her so his face was hidden.
"I have something to say, though. Doesn’t that count at all?" She was angry, and it showed in her voice.
"Yes, of course it does, but if you have any…pity…for me, you will not say what I can’t bear to hear."
"Can’t bear to hear? What do you think I’m going to say, Vincent?"
He stood silent.
"Tell me. I want to know what you think I’m going to say."
His head came up and he looked at her. His voice was cool. "You didn’t come all the way down here to tell me you hate me, and you didn’t come to punish me for what I did. I know that." His eyes turned away from hers, and his voice became almost inaudible "…You came to forgive me." His hands clenched and he raised his head to look up at the tunnel ceiling.
"No. No, I didn’t, because there’s nothing to forgive. For Heaven’s sake, Vincent, don’t make a big thing of what’s really a minor incident! I was doing something I shouldn’t have been doing, and you caught me at it. How’s that for a different take on it?"
He winced. "It wasn’t just what… I can’t...I can’t talk about this any more. Please, please, get up, and let us go on."
She sighed. "All right. I can’t make you talk about it. And I can’t make you forgive yourself for something that’s all in your own mind." She got to her feet. "Let’s go."
He turned and began to walk.
><><><><><><><><
They had walked for some while, Catherine thought perhaps an hour, when Vincent stopped. He raised his head and turned it back and forth as if scenting something. She waited, but he said nothing, only stood alertly, still with raised head.
Finally she said "What is it?" No answer. "Vincent, what is it?"
"Dust."
She was mystified. "Dust? What do you mean?"
"I smell dust in the air. Something has collapsed or exploded or fallen in, somewhere." He continued to look ahead of them for another moment, then turned back to her. "We’ll go another way." He passed her and started back the way they had come.
She turned to follow him, obedient to his greater knowledge, but she wanted to know the reason. She lengthened her steps until she walked beside him. "Why are we going another way?"
He didn’t answer. After a moment her temper flared again. "You might do me the courtesy of answering me on this subject anyway. I’m not exactly asking for your innermost thoughts!"
He answered then, glancing at her for just a moment. "I’m sorry, I was thinking, I didn’t mean to be rude. I was checking this alternate route in my mind, making sure it’s something you will be able to manage. It’s longer, but I’m suspicious of a section of tunnel on your original route. There have been some small cracks appearing in the rock over the last two or three years. I have no reason for thinking that particular tunnel is involved, I just…I’ve lived here all my life; I know these tunnels, and…I have a feeling about that one." He paused for a moment. "This way is better. If that tunnel is blocked, we’d have to come back here anyway."
They continued to walk, and after a moment he went on. "Catherine, I’m willing to talk to you about any practical matter. We can’t spend this whole trip in silence. But I will not discuss any personal matters; I have much to think about and I cannot talk about it until I have come to some point of…of balance inside myself. I hope you won’t remain angry with me."
Catherine considered that for a minute. Well, anything is better than complete silence! she thought, and gave tacit consent to his wishes by an impersonal remark. "How far do we have to back track?"
"Not far, perhaps a mile. There is a side tunnel that leads to a large cavern. Perhaps you will find it interesting. There are the remains of some construction there that I believe to be very ancient, perhaps prehistoric."
><><><><><><><><
It was indeed very interesting. There was no lighting here, but by the glow of one of Vincent’s torches she saw a path perhaps six feet wide, curved around the side of a huge cavern that extended both above and below them to be lost in the gloom. Because of the curve, she could see under the path ahead of them that massive beams had been brought in and used to shore up the ledge they walked on. The path along the ledge was smoothed with wear, and she thought that many feet had passed along this trail in the past; many people had lived or worked here at one time.
"Is there any sign of homes, caves or any other signs of habitations?" she asked.
"I’ve never discovered anything that would give a clue as to why these people went to the trouble of making this path safe. There is nothing either ahead or behind that would indicate that they ever lived here, or mined here. Mining would seem to be a reason for such heavy construction, but I’ve never seen any signs of it or of habitations anywhere, and I’ve searched. This ledge is the only remaining sign."
Catherine shook her head, mystified. "What an enigma! This was well worth seeing, Vincent. The engineering involved in placing those beams is the work of pretty sophisticated minds. I’m glad that our detour brought us here, I’d be sorry if I’d missed it."
While Catherine looked again at the beams, Vincent’s eyes dwelt on her with love and longing. Her quick appreciation of what she had seen was just another reason to love her, but when she turned to him again he looked away and started down the path. "We’ve a long way to go, Catherine. Shall we start?"
They had gone only a few feet when a loud cracking sound and a rumble from above startled Catherine. She had time for one quick glance over her shoulder before she felt a violent shove as Vincent pushed her forward, compelling her to run. His arm was around her shoulders, half-carrying her weight as he pressed her to make the best speed possible out of the way of danger. Behind them the rumble became a roar.
With a final shove that carried her off her feet, he nearly succeeded in getting her totally clear of the rockslide that followed, but a bouncing rock clipped her sharply on the head. The last thing she heard as consciousness faded was Vincent’s cry of pain.