Simply Watched

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That night the snow fell. Manueline felt the cold in the air, the biting stillness that preceded the falling of the snow. She felt it covering the land, covering the house, the valley that contained the house, covering the path that she and Wals had followed to get there. She woke in the middle of the night and built up the fire a little making sure Wals was warm but not waking him. The following day she looked over the cold world in which they had taken refuge. Looking out the window and then wrapping her feet and going out to gather wood.

She walked a little way up the path going as far as the hot spring, which steamed in the cold early morning light. It wasn't hot but it was warm and she thought she might come and bathe in it for the comfort and the warmth as much as the cleanliness. That day she contented herself with looking round the valley, feeling at peace and somehow better able to deal with Wals with all the white stillness around them.

She started again trying to teach him words that she knew, more than anything trying to get some sort of response out of him. She could get little from him. He responded when she offered him food or asked him to move when she cleaned and tidied the room; he would even fetch the bowls and spoons when she asked him to at the beginning of a meal.

Apart from meeting the basic needs of his body, he showed no sign of any initiative from within himself at all. The sense of having to carry him, of having to give her will to him so that he could function as a person began to oppress Manueline. There was some uncarded wool in a basket in one of the cupboards. She took the wool out and began to tease and spin it, making it into thread. She did not have a loom but she could knit and they would both need some warmth as the weather grew colder. It was a hardship now for her to go outside with nothing but her cloth wrapped around her and it would get colder. She showed Wals how to tease out the wool and spin the thread and he settled into the rhythm of the work as well. She was not sure if it was the right thing to do but it seemed the only thing to do and better than doing nothing.

The day passed and the next very much like it. The third day found them both restless and towards the end of the afternoon, she decided she would go and bathe in the hot spring. She explained to Wals as best she could and bound up her feet, gathered up a tattered cloth she found in one of the cupboards that she would use to dry herself. She put some fresh embers from the fire in a pot, went downstairs, out of the door and out into the dull, snow bright light of the valley in the afternoon.

It was overcast but light because of the whiteness of the snow on the ground. Standing at the door, again she felt uneasy but dismissed it. She was sure if anyone was going to come they would have done so before the snow. By now, the path they had followed would be almost impassable.

Manueline made her way up the side of the valley and off the path, taking the way to the spring. As she did so, it began to snow, big heavy flakes that came down thick and fast. There was no wind at all and it was cold so the snow just settled on the ground covering her tracks almost as soon as she past. She knew the way well and followed the path, soon losing sight of the house, the valley, and the path she and Wals had followed when they came down into it for the first time.

When she came to the spring she stood a while listening to the sounds of the world around her but it was quiet, everything deadened by the snow. There was still a faint sense of menace about the air but she felt somehow the menace was not directed at her.

She gathered some dry sticks and built up the fire in the pot. She cleared away the snow from a rocky ledge beside the pool and then tipped the embers out and built up a small fire. Once it was burning steadily she took her cloth off, carefully arranged it near the fire to keep warm and dry together with the rag she had brought to dry herself. Then she slipped into the water, grateful for the warmth, losing herself in it and the contrast between the biting cold of the air in the valley and the close warmth of the water as it surrounded and supported her body. She sank deep into the water, allowing her hair to submerge, letting the water cover all but her face, her nose and her mouth.

Manueline stayed that way for a long time, then something she could not account for made her sit up, listening, sensing something had changed in the valley. She sat cocking her head one way then the other. Then she heard it, an incoherent shout, certainly not Wals; and then the same voice shouting again only this time she could make out the words, "It's over here, I can see the place, it's over here." She even recognized the voice; it was one of the young men from the courtyard.

Manueline scrambled out of the pool, hastily dried herself, wrapped up her feet and ran tying the cloth around her even as she ran. She heard answering responses from other men. She could make out at least two more perhaps three and it sounded as though they were close to the house, a long way away from her. Still she ran, desperate to get between them and Wals. It was hopeless, they were too close; she could not possibly get to the house before them.

She ran up the path seeing their tracks in the freshly fallen snow and came suddenly upon the house. Wals was outside, she had the feeling he had been outside for some time, waiting for her. There were four men confronting him, one of them saying, "You must come with us, come." It was no use, as he had no idea what they were saying. But their presence seemed to arouse something in him for he looked more animated than he had in days. As Manueline came in sight, the men turned to look at her.

One of them, the old man from the courtyard, said something to the others and the old man and one of the younger men turned towards Manueline; approaching her warily, like hunters approaching a wild animal. She sidled round, trying to get to Wals but they saw what she was doing and tracked her movements.

Then suddenly everything seemed to happen at once, the two men close to Wals moved towards him each trying to seize one arm. The two men close to Manueline converged on her as she tried to slip past them. One of them managed to knock her down as she tried to get to Wals.

Manueline was completely taken with Wals and what was happening to him. She had no thought for herself at all and simply watched Wals no matter where he was or how she fell. She saw the two men try to tackle him, one of them each side. He somehow anticipated them, getting to one of them before the other could get to him. He didn't seem to collide with the other man so much as merge with him. It was as though where there had been two men, Wals and his attacker, there was now just one with too many arms and too many legs.

Then two of the arms disappeared as Wals wrapped his arms around the man's neck or rather held him by the neck, almost tenderly. She could see him feeling for something, a certain look coming to his face when he found it. It was the pulse at the point of the jaw. He looked for the wellspring of life that they used in greeting each other and, when he found it, he shut it off and the man died.

The man waved his arms and legs around trying to free himself from Wals' grip but it was no good. The other man tried to get to Wals, not even realizing the significance of the grip, but Wals kept the dying man between them, moving him round like a shield until he hung utterly dead in his hands. Wals let him go absorbing himself into the other man as he threw himself at Wals over the dead body of the first man. Wals merged with him; slipped round behind him; held his throat in his hands, feeling for the pulse at the point of the jaw. He felt for it and found it, he shut off the life and the second man died.

By this time, the other two men had pulled Manueline to her feet and stood watching in horror as Wals killed their companions. He dropped the second man dead in the snow and turned towards the other two, who were still holding Manueline. He spoke, not in their language, but it was obvious to all of them that he was telling them to let her go.

Manueline could feel in them no will to hold her but at the same time they were petrified with fear; literally frozen in place. She heard the remaining young man say, "She said it was death to come, it was death to touch him. We shouldn't have come." Manueline felt the old man begin to shake beside her. Suddenly he went stiff as a board, as though he had been struck by lightning. Wals continued to advance on them speaking again. The old man and the young stood unable to move. Then the old man's eyes rolled back in his head, his breath came in an odd rasping rhythm and he fell dead in a heap at Manueline's feet.

The remaining man seemed to reach a new depth of horror stepping away from the old man as though afraid that his death might be contagious. He looked at Manueline, looked again at Wals, let out an incoherent cry and ran off up the path back the way they had come.

To follow this thread in the story go to: Trying to Kiss

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