Chapter 5 ONE SLIP AND HE'S DEAD

My hands tremble after an hour of persistent climbing. The stalk seemed to have no end. The farther I climb, the farther the top seems to get. I could only see what I assume to be the top of the giant plant, piercing through a sea of clouds so far up above.

A strong wind blows against me, rattling my ropes and causing my hair to whip behind me. I hold fast, digging my knife into the thick stalk. My shirt is paper thin against the harshness of the elements up here, but I can only grit my teeth and continue.

Up here, the wind is unrestricted and strong enough to knock one off any footholds. I do not intend to let that happen, anyway.

The wind eventually dies down, and I let out a tired breath, continuing the torturous and hazardous climb. My fingers are bright red and raw from gripping tightly at the knife and ropes. I have tied the knife tightly to my arm with the ropes, so it does not fall back down to the ground if my hold slips.

My toes burned from gripping on to precarious grooves in the stalk for foothold.

My shoulders scream from the exertion of pulling my body up, along the stalk. I paused for a moment, and glance down. The ground looks so far down, that one slip and fall from this height leads to certain death.

I am above the height of the highest tower in the kingdom at this point. The kingdom gates looks like nothing but tiny grooves in the distance.

I groan and continue upwards, watching my arms begin to tremble. I am completely exhausted, and I know I should rest for a moment before embarking on the rest of this treacherous ascent.

With my jaw clenching shut, I labor up the distance to one of the large, thick leaves of the stalk and lean against it to take a rest. It is very study, and so gigantic that a dozen hefty knights could lie on it comfortable.

However, I don't take that chance. My ropes are safely tied along the stalk to catch me if I slip, so I can not take the risk of straying to far away. I climb onto the leaf, with my back leaning against the stalk, and shift around to find a slightly more comfortable position.

Then I decide to take a short nap.

My body feels the passage of time, and it is past another hour when I begin to stir. The strong winds whirl through the vines in abundance, and I tense up. In a second, I remember that I am high up in the sky, and not in aunt's little cottage, so I stop myself from moving too much.

I blink and raise my hand to wipe my face, when I hear a voice above me,

"So much for all your brave talk, lad. Sleeping like an infant. At this rate you will never be able to save your aunt in time!"

A wave of shock and sudden fear roils through me and I jolt, moving backwards on the leaf. However, another instinctive fear surges through me and I quickly grab the stalk tight before I lose my balance and fall to my doom.

My knife slips out in my disorientation, but hangs by the rope. I am glad I had the foresight to tie it up.

With my heart slamming in my chest, I look up at where the sudden voice that had startled me so much, came from.

Another calmer voice says chidingly,

"Don't scare the kid like that, Barret. It is dangerous up here. One slip and he's dead."

I recognize the people hanging above. It turns out to be Sir Barret and Sir Victor!

My eyes widen in surprise, but a huge sigh of relief leaves me when I register their familiar faces and voices. They have ropes that look studier and longer, in intricate knots around their bodies and the stalk.

They are no longer in their knight clothing, but in leather frocks that do not look heavy to climb in, but tough enough to resist the strong wind and scratches from climbing.

Satchels of food and supplies hang from their shoulders, as they lean against some smaller giant leaves above mine.

"You came, after all!"

I exclaim in disbelief. The loneliness I feel deep within is immediately dispelled by their presence. Along with the anger I felt at their reluctance to climb the plant immediately.

Now, I am just very excited to see them.

Sir Barret grins,

"Yes, we are here on this godforsaken plant, boy. Rest easy."

Sir Victor looks upwards, at the neverending stretch of vines and green stalks. His face is calm as he accesses the situation. When he glances at me, he gives me a nod of approval.

"I am surprised you made it this far, Jack. You might be able to rescue your aunt, after all. It was a treacherous climb, even with our supplies. Yet, you made it this high with a homespun rope and tattered clothes."

I glance down at my shirt, realizing for the first time that it is dirty and torn from the violent roots and the earthquake they brought.

I shrug with one shoulder, giving them a grin,

"What can I say? I am not as defenceless as aunt thinks. I will save her, and change her mind."

Sir Barret passes a satchel down to me. I catch it, and peer inside to see a new, sturdier rope, and leather gloves for my hands. More food lay within, along with some other knickknacks that a knight will probably have use for.

"Wear those gloves. It will reduce your chances of slipping and injury. Your hand is already torn and bleeding. You definitely do not want an infection up here, boy. This climb up is full of peril, but it will be a lot worse during the climb down."

Sir Victor says to me.

"Thank you."

I say, carefully slipping the gloves on. They stick to the cuts on my fingers, but a largely comfortable. As I swing the satchel across my chest, Sir Berret speaks again,

"The king has allowed us travel up this treacherous plant to retrieve Hansman. He provided us with supplies and food, and we managed to slip some out for you, Jack."

"We did not make mention of your aunt to the king, as he might have forbidden us from coming back. We should make haste, if we want to cover great a height before nightfall."

I am glad, deciding that perhaps, Sir Victor and Sir Barret are not such bad men. Yes, they can be mean and cross when doing their job, but here they are, back to rescue Sir Hansman along with my aunt.

"Thank you for not mentioning my aunt. The last thing I need is a decree from the king forbidding all subjects from making this climb when my aunt is still up there."

My voice is quiet with sincere appreciation. They turn out to not be cowards, after all.

They both look at me with smiles, motioning me upwards. Sir Victor responded in a warm tone,

"It's alright, boy. Come on, let's climb."

I smile back and grab my knife from where it dangles, stabbing it into the thick stalk with one powerful strike. I pull myself up with my hold on the knife, and pull it out, stabbing it up again.

I notice the stalk heals itself, after piercing it with my knife. It is a good thing for us, because it means our knives can never slip out of the stalk.

As I get close enough to the guards, their attention falls on my knife. Sir Victor raises an eyebrow like he is impressed, asking,

"Where did you get a knife like that in such a small village, lad?"

Then his eyebrows furrows in a suspicious frown, "Did you steal it?"

I look at the sharp, curved steel in my fist with pride, blowing a strand of hair out of my eyes. I do not even take offense at his accusation, after all, I do steal from time to time.

"No. It was my father's. He was a very skilled blacksmith in his time before the plague hit. This knife was his prized possession, because he spent a lot of time crafting it. It is the only thing left I have of him."

The guards both go quiet for a moment, the silence broken only by the sounds of our knives piercing the scalp, and our feet struggling to push our bodies up.

Sir Berret finally says solemnly,

"It is a mighty fine knife, Jack. It would be worth a bag of shiny copper pieces these days." "I have no intention of selling it." I grunt, pulling my self up along the stalk with the rope.

"I hope I will never have a reason to be forced to sell it, but I can't even hope anymore. The taxes that we poor villagers have to give to the king are too extreme for us."

I glance at both of them meaningfully, hoping they can understand that it is not our fault that we owed taxes. We simply did not have the money to pay so often. And it is exactly like that for a lot of the villagers in the kingdom.

"Well, boy. It's the king's rule. We only follow orders." Sir Berret grunts.

"I know you work for the king, but you guards could be a little more understanding towards the rest of the king's subjects. There are a lot of orphans who can barely have one piece of stale bread in a day. Yet, they are required to pay taxes as long as they stay under a roof."

I voice the unfairness of it all. It is because of the taxes that aunt is in danger right now. If she had not come out to argue with the guards, she would be safe in the cottage by the time the stalks begin to grow.

The worst that can happen in that scenario, is for her to sustain a few scratches which her ointments will heal in no time.

Sir Berret lets out a scoff,

"It's more complicated than that, Jack. Although, I do not expect you understand what goes on in the ranks since you are not a gurad yourself."

I glance at him, about to counter his words with mine when he suddenly loses his footing inside a groove at the side of the stalk and slips, hitting his head against the hard wood. "Berret!"

Sir Victor yells, sliding down his rope a short length and grabbing his friend by his flailing arm. Only a rope kept Sir Barret here with us.

I stare at him guilty for distracting him with my argument. When he regains his balance, I mutter,

"Please, be more careful."

He lets out a laugh, reaching out to slam a hand against my back in a playful manner, knocking the wind out of me. His laugh is contagious, and I grin as well.

"You don't have to sound so guilty, Jack. It's not your fault. I haven't done this much work in such a long time, that my legs feel numb already! But, I will be very careful from now on. Thank heavens for these ropes."

Sir Victor calls from the side, giving me a solemn stare,

"Listen, Jack. We understand that the villagers are poor, but we have to enforce the kings laws if we fancy it or not. The knights are and guards are severely punished when they do not bring back full amount of copper pieces to the king's treasury." I frown, staring at him.

It is the first time I am hearing of something like this. In the eyes of the villagers, the knights and guards are untouchable. Although the knights are more dignified, answerable only to the king, the guards had a lot of power over the king's subjects as well.

Sir Berret adds,

"There are some decorated knights that only fight the king's battles, but those that work around the kingdom get severe punishments should they step out of line, knowingly or not. Some get their titles stripped, or swords taken."

Sir Victor sounds angry as he swings himself up, pushing his boots against the green wood.

"The guards are assigned to a strict number of house in a village to collect taxes from. None one copper piece should be short at the end of the day, or get punished by whipping, humiliation in the ranks or have your earnings cut short." Sir Victor shakes his head.

"A lot of guards have families to take care of, so they are harsh, to make sure they get the full tax payments. This is the reality of it all, Jack.

"I hope you now understand why we had to demand harshly for the taxes you owe. Each month you owed made one of us serve a punishment. It's not your fault, surely. But I hope you get it, lad."

Sir Berret let out a loud groan.

"Stop talking about such things, Victor. Talking won't change a darn thing. Ah, this is such a wretched endeavor, don't you think, boys? I could really use a large, cold swig of rum, right now, don't you agree, Jack?"

"Sadly, there's nothing up here but plant sap. And I doubt it tastes any good."

I respond with small grimace, rubbing my sticky, gloved hand against my shirt. Sir Berret laughs boisterously at my response, slapping his hand against the stalk, followed by a chuckle from Sir Victor.

I stare at them both with a small smile, feeling sympathetic for them, now that I know the reasons behind their actions.