The Storm Tamer Page 4

  "These are really good. I was wondering. I need a couple of things."

  The woman kept working on spreading out some pie crust. "I can cook up most things if you just tell me what is in it."

  "Oh no." Margo laughed. "Not food. I need a glass for my bathroom to rinse out my mouth and store my toothbrush in so I can use the same one every day. I also would like something to carry water in when I go for walks. Last, I would like to borrow one of your large knives."

  The woman quit rolling the dough and frowned. "Well, I can tell Safra when she cleans the next time to make sure to leave a glass in the bathroom. I have several jars with lids." She bent over and began to dig through some stuff under the counter and came up with a glass jar with a lid clamped to its top with a metal handle.

  "As for a knife Miss, everything here belongs to Master Coin, and since you belong to the Master, then I guess they are yours also. Help yourself."

  Margo wanted to correct the cook about thinking she belonged to Rahm Maaker, but she decided to finish her roll, take a couple more with her along with the jar and one of the large knives. She took the time to fill her jar with water and then went all the way out to the front of the house to look at the rock she had sat on yesterday.

  The day was bright with the full sun still behind the tall mountains. Margo stepped out far enough to look up past the house and found that there was a path that went around the cliff and disappeared to seem to go up past his dark mansion.

  This was where she wanted to go and explore. She wanted to see if there was an area for cows to graze and perhaps other cabins with people. If so, there had to be a way over this mountain and down the other side to escape from this insane place and this dark rain master.

  The path around the mountain was wide, and Margo smiled as she saw the dark cow patties with flies buzzing around the mounds at the side of the trail. Okay, somewhere up here there were cows as this was fresh manure.

  Walking for what she estimated were a couple of hours with the sun climbing overhead, she heard in the distance a cow making its sound that was unmistakable. The mooing sound echoed from somewhere above where she was walking. She didn't realize cows could climb.

  This is what happened when you couldn't Google information. Margo realized there had to be lots of areas in the world that wasn't flat like Florida and Texas…and that cattle had to be raised on slopes.

  Making up her mind, she decided she would walk on around what looked like a rockslide and then take a break and eat one of the rolls wrapped up in a pocket. Instead, after getting around the tall rocks, she had a view of a gentle slope up to the mountain that looked like a hill. It was full of munching cattle that didn't even raise their heads at her approach. There was some movement of a tail or two swatting at a stray fly.

  On the lower side of the pathway was a clear brook that seemed to take a turn to run along the side of the walkway before meandering on down the mountain. The water seemed to come out of the ground as if a well from a group of round rocks that over the years had been washed to a white color.

  All the rocks and stones in the brook were also smooth and white or light gray from the scrubbing of the clean water or rolling against each other. A young man looked up from where he knelt with a bucket next to the running water.

  "Hello, Miss."

  "Hi, you must be the one who brings the rich milk to the house for my coffee." Margo smiled.

  "Yes, my cows give off a lot of cream in this thin air. I feed them lots of grain," he said.

  "So, are you up here by yourself?"

  The young man stood up and laughed. "Well, I am not married. But I have three brothers and four sisters. My grammy lives with me parents and two of my bros are married with many little ones running underfoot. There is also a couple of aunties and me mom's two bros with their families. So, to tell the truth, we have the hillside in the trees full of small cabins and all overflowing. Yet I would have my ears boxed if I didna' invite you to eat our midday meal."

  His words were not educated, but they were clear and without any accent.

  "Oh, I don't want to be a bother, I am thinking of going over the mountain and getting to some other region away from here."

  He started laughing as he filled his bucket. "With so many cooking and so many eating, one more is not the problem. Besides you must tell your story again. Me folks will enjoy that one."

  More out of curiosity than anything else, Margo followed the man and his water up the road and then down through a slow sloping field and into an old pine forest. It was only minutes before the noise of children drowned out any sounds of birds and cattle.

  Chapter Eight

  Several giggling young girls led Margo over to a bunch of outdoor tables. There were more people up here on the slight slope of this mountain than there was in the whole town of Better. The amazing fact about this group was that they were all family and claimed always to have been on this land for as long as any of them could remember. The land had been passed from family members to family members with a large cemetery further down among the pine trees.

  They all agreed that the people in Better were crazy and they stayed away from any contact except to sell butchered beef and milk. They also gave the same items to the Master, and one of the cooks always gave them trade goods.

  These were better goods than the handmade items of the people from Better. It seemed the people down in Better traded them knitted shawls and beer. The Master's cook gave them choices, as she sat out items on a side door's step.

  It was burning oil, pots and pans, knives, and eating utensils. It seemed most of the items were metal and appreciated by this large mountain family as needed articles.

  Finding herself next to an older man she smiled and asked, "How long has the old stone house been on the side of this mountain?"

  He was munching on some tuber and nodded his head. "Forever." The word was said around a full mouth.

  Margo tried the same item, and it tasted like turnips. "Yes, it looks as old as the cliff around it. So, how long has Mr. Maaker lived there?"

  Reaching for another dish, his answer was mumbled, but she understood him. "Forever."

  "Oh, like yours, his family has always owned that dark house."

  He held out a platter. "Try this; it is deer and very good and a change from cattle. No, it has always been Master Maaker."

  He put some meat on her plate and passed the platter to the woman next to him. He turned to help put meat on the woman's plate before she passed the platter on down the table.

  A young girl passed a large mug over her shoulder full of strong smelling alcohol. Margo decided it was home brewed and probably pretty strong. The old man grabbed his and gulped down almost half of what was in his mug.

  "Sir, what I meant was I just wondered how long Master Maaker had resided in the home."

  "Yep, like I said, forever." He belched, and everyone laughed, and he drained his cup and held it up for a refill.

  Okay, Rahm's family had owned the dark house as long as this family had lived on this side of the mountain. The men in his family probably all looked alike to these cattlemen. After all, most of them didn't get off this mountain most of their life. Margo was wondering about inter-family marriages.

  Rahm was such a gorgeous male in an unusual way that was almost scary. She thought that it would be easy for these people to confuse the men in the Maaker family generations. She actually wondered how often any of them saw Rahm. He didn't seem to be the type of gentleman to wander around in the woods to admire cows.

  "I wonder if any of you know the best way for me to go over the mountain to get away from this valley and the surrounding area?"

  A couple of people laughed but most just smiled.

  Now a man who looked to be around forty or forty-five and was sitting across from her spoke to her. "There has been no way out since the big quake that caused the other side of the mountain side to slide away."

  Another man further down past a couple of girls nod
ded and added his thoughts. "Yep, over the years we have lost a few silly cows, and one good bull was going up too close to the edge because after all this time it still crumbles. It is very dangerous to go even close."

  "When did this happen?" Margo asked.

  One man looked up as if thinking. "I can't remember the time exactly. What about you, Gamps?"

  The man beside Margo nodded. "I was maybe ten and being sent out to help gather in the calves. Shook so bad we had to repair some roofs. Pass the bread."

  Margo looked closely at the old man trying to guess his age. He could be anywhere north of seventy. So, none of them had been able to go past this mountain for sixty or more years. Now she was back in the rabbit hole.

  "So, can I go up and look at the damage and the rock fall? I really need to get away from this valley."

  One of the young men stood up and grabbed a piece of bread as he started to leave. "Not now as it is time for our rain."

  Margo looked up at the clear blue sky showing through the treetops. She shrugged her shoulders thinking farmers probably had a better feel about the weather.

  Since everyone seemed to be through with the meal, Margo got up and started back to find the broad path.

  "I think I would like to look at the edge of this mountain. So, I guess I just keep walking up on the road."

  One of the women spoke. "Donal, you go with the lady to make sure she doesn't start another landslide."

  A boy of about ten smiled and started ahead of Margo. They walked together for another period with the boy whistling and chasing butterflies.

  She didn't have to be told where the other side of the mountain had caved away; the road ended high in the sky with nothing beyond but white clouds. There was a rough edge with some trees leaning over at an angle with the look that any movement would send them out of sight. There were still some roots sticking up in the air around some large rocks and that was it, the end of this mountain and nothing beyond except blue sky and clouds.

  Suddenly right before her eyes, the clouds were turning dark, and the first drops of rain were hitting the road.

  "Yep Miss, time to get back. This storm will not be bad, but we should get back to calm the cattle. You need to get down to the Master's house to keep dry."

  She did as he suggested and returned to the dark rock house. It seemed colder and clammy with the rain, and she went up to her bedroom.

  Frustration was her main feeling as she took a hot shower and got into a long T-shirt and men's shorts. She dug out her notebook and curled up on the big bed. She had found a couple more candles and had them all lit, making the room a little cozy.

  Looking at her little list, she wondered if she should start a diary. But what would she put in it? At this point, she still wasn't sure if she was awake or in a dream world. Nothing here made any sense including the man who owned this house. There had to be some explanation or some way for her to wake up and return to Florida.

  In her bare feet and carrying one candle she left her room and headed for his office. She was grateful to find the doors open and the room dark. She hesitated about closing the doors for secrecy but decided she didn't want to be trapped.

  Setting the candle down on the table she had eaten off of once before, she made her way over to his desk and turned on the lamp that perched on a corner. The shade made the light only shine down on the books and scrolls that Rahm had accumulated on the cluttered top. The top scroll looked like a piece of artwork yet was old and discolored.

  The caramel color had darker stains, yet she could still see the writing and what looked like a map, all done by hand. The words were in a language she didn't understand, and even the map was done in a manner that was unusual. There were what she guessed represented mountains with a few lines up and down in simple points and not even connected.

  There were other places on the maps that she would guess indicated water as there were plain small wide U's connected together and one line of u's under another. Yes, that was a way of indicating water and waves in a very basic manner. There were stick figures of trees and then some outlines of small square houses.

  To make the strange simple map complete there was what looked like a tower on one side and an equal one on the other side. She supposed back in old England, King Charles the first might have looked at such a map.

  Lifting up the corners, the others looked almost the same, but some had more details, and there was a different language, maybe French on one. She turned and looked at the open book, amazed at its beauty.

  There was half-inch ornamental work drawn down both sides of each page. The colors were rich using red, green, and blue depicting vines and leaves and even a small bird now and then among the floral drawings. Each border was similar yet showed some small details that were different that led Margo to believe that they were hand-drawn.

  Her thoughts led her to believe that this large book was very old and probably worth a great deal of money. Here it lay in this dark old house as if it were just flotsam. She went and got her candle and held it up to examine the titles on some of the books on the sidewall. Most of them were in languages she didn't understand, but she pulled down one that read Dimension Now And Then.

  It was not a large book, but it still seemed to be old. Setting the candle down she opened it about halfway and found the words were English. Margo decided to take it back to her room.

  Looking around she went and turned off the desk lamp and, taking her candle and book, she was off to her bedroom to read herself to sleep.

  She took the time to go to the bathroom and found a glass on the sink. Using a new toothbrush she put it in the glass and returned to her room, putting out the extra candles.

  The first pages were a bio on the author, Dr. Michael Edward Kahn. The sentence that followed his name was full of his degrees and titles. Wow. When did that man have any time to live if he spent all his time studying?

  The bio went on to tell where he had graduated from, where he had taught at, where he held honors at and what Boards he held positions on in the USA as well as worldwide.

  Finally, the last couple of pages on his information told of his work with the Large Hadron Collider at CERN in looking at what he claimed were the proven results of creating the so-called God Particle, but he also postulated there was the opening between dimensions.

  Margo yawned thinking this was all very dry reading and not really what she was looking for to replace the TV she watched each night.

  Chapter Nine

  Margo was beginning to get used to her new alarm clock. It was the sunshine off the gold seams in the black marble on the floor of her bedroom.

  She got up and took clean clothes to the bathroom to take a shower, brush her teeth without toothpaste, and finish her plan for this day. She had a funny water jug that she filled; she had a long knife, and she was off to try the forest.

  Going through the dining room to the kitchen, she accepted a cup of coffee from the thin cook. Taking a clean napkin, she loaded it full of the fresh rolls and took off towards the front door.

  Margo's walk was firm and with purpose until she saw the figure outlined in the open front door. Even though she was seeing only a black outline of a tall man with hands on hips and long legs apart, she knew it was Rahm in the doorway.

  Slowing down, Margo was trying to decide what she should do…stop, go into a side room, or go on and try to pass him to go outside. Thinking about all the unanswered questions she had, she decided to go ahead and approach him, and if he ignored her, she would just go on down the pathway.

  As she got close, he didn't seem to move, although he had to have heard her boots on the hard floor. There was room on either side of him in that wide door if she turned, so she did that to slide past him.

  He moved so fast that she lost her breath as he had her pinned against the frame of the door.

  "Who are you?" He leaned down, his hot breath in her face as he spoke. The air from his mouth had the scent of pine and mint.

 
; Margo's eyes widened in shocked. Of all the things she expected him to say that was not what she expected him to ask.

  "You know who I am. You brought me here from my home in Florida, and I want to go back. The important question is who are you?"

  There was a pause for both of them and then she was looking carefully at his eyes. She was too close to this unusually handsome man. He was clean-shaven, and his strong jaw with his cheekbones was almost illegal. His long dark eyebrows curved over his deep-set eyes, and it was his eyes that shocked her now because they were almost normal. They had white at the edges with startling clear blue lenses that almost gleamed.

  "Rahm, what the hell gives with your eyes?"

  At this, the man stepped back and removed his hand from Margo. She didn't move, waiting for him to speak or explain something, anything.

  "I have no time for this; there is a battle I must give influence. Come."

  Suddenly, over his shoulder lightning flashed and the sun was being covered by black clouds. Her instinct was to turn and run back down the hallway. Before she had moved, he reached down and had his long fingers around her wrist.

  Her next reaction was to sink to her knees as the rain beat down on her on the hill, as he let go of her wrist and turned to walk a few steps away.

  Where were they and how did they get here?

  Below them in a valley was a great battle between two forces of men. They were dressed in metal, and there were many horses, but there were more men who did not have mounts. These foot soldiers on both sides were engaged in preparing for the deadly fight facing them. Most of them were trying to make themselves right with whatever deity they believed, as this would be a battle with a lot of lives to be lost on both sides.

  The clouds seemed to dance at his hands, and the rain began to fall. Yet, as she watched, it fell more on one side of fighters than it did on the other. It was the turning point in this conflict. The one side was getting mired down in deep water and mud and couldn't bring its heavy equipment forward.