welcome to paul edmund norman's the gateway

Five
kronos dufiarchen endindridrifiar Heraclius - duchenfiar - alkyulka.
Year of Heraclius six hundred and thirty one - day 204 - morning

As the mist cleared, more of the surrounding countryside and features came into focus and vision. She was alarmed to see that the mountain range she had seen the previous night was much further away than she had first thought, and much, much bigger. Away to the right was a river, she could see the shimmering surface as the ground sloped down towards the banks.
Then, out of the clearing mist she heard the sound of hoofbeats and her heart pounded once more with panic as she made out the shapes of riders, approaching the stone circle. These were not ponies they were riding, but what appeared to be huge lizards, with long back legs and shorter forelegs, their heads brightly coloured like their flanks.
She thought of running, but there was nowhere to run to. If she left the circle of stones, she would be easily caught, and she had no doubt that they were coming for her. They had probably seen the bright yellow cape where she had discarded it from a vantage point in the foothills ranged before the mountains.
The first riders were barely a hundred yards away. Abruptly they stopped and dismounted, and the twenty or so following reined in their ungainly mounts at a discreet distance. The young man that walked slowly towards her had jet black hair and a coppery, bronzed skin. He wore a leather tunic and breeches, and he carried a bow slung over his shoulder. Behind him walked two girls. They also had jet black hair and the same bronzed skins, and wore similar clothing to the man, who was several inches taller.
At about ten yards from the stone circle, he stopped, and the girls came to stand either side of him.
'Hivaru?' he called, and she understood immediately what he asked.
'Who are you?' he called again.

Trembling with fear, Penny opened her mouth and her reply came out in an inaudible whisper.
'Penelope Jackson.'
'Who are you?'
'Penelope Jackson!' she said again, louder, her eyes filling with the tears of fear. Oh, why had she come to this place? All she wanted now was to return to the comfort and security of her home in Muncaster. But this man that stood before her was talking to her in a language she had heard many times before. This was one of the voices, she was sure. The man edged forward, just a pace. She supposed it was because the stone circle was some kind of sacred place for the bronzeskins, though she had no way of knowing it at the time.
'Walk out of the stone circle,' he told her. So far, he had not smiled.
'You will hurt me,' she said, tears running down her cheeks.
'You will not be harmed.'
She was responding in Herakian, she understood what he was saying. All those times she had heard the strange voices in her head, voices in a different tongue, that had been Herakian! She must have been in contact with the peoples of Heraklion for four years or more, and never knew what it was she was hearing!
'Bring the cape,' the man said. 'Walk out of the circle. You will not be harmed.'
What he actually said, in Herakian, was 'Cassera geofis. Estredetis. Nu vindok.' This, translated literally, was 'Carry cloak. Walk. Not hurt.' Somehow, though she had scant knowledge of the language, the logic was inescapable to her. 'Carry cloak' meant quite simply that he wanted her to pick up the cape and bring it with her. 'Walk' was so obvious it required no other words. And 'no hurt' was pretty obvious, too.

Slowly she bent to pick up the yellow cape and folded it neatly over her arm, then she began to walk out of the stone circle towards the waiting people. As she passed through the stones she closed her eyes, wishing fervently that she could find herself back in rural Oxfordshire. But it was not going to happen. She stepped out into the plains that stretched away to the mountains, and came to a halt within a yard or so of the bronzed man.
'Who are you?'
'Penelope Jackson.'
'Penn-eh-lo-pee-Jax-un,' the man repeated, and one of the girls laughed, putting her hand to her face. She was perhaps a couple of years older than Penny, and her companion pretty much the same. Both were very pretty, with bright green eyes. The young man, who was not much older than any of them, possible seventeen or eighteen years, frowned.
'Penn-eh-lo-pee-Jax-un,' he said again, carefully repeating the syllables. Penny nodded. She was acutely aware of the tears that were still running down her face.
'You come Warikeewa Camp,' the man said.
'Who are you?' Penny asked, trembling slightly. The man frowned again.
'Kotsoteka,' he replied. He turned to the girl on his right. 'Kanchankikiwana,' he said, then to the girl on his left, 'Wanikiwana.'
He turned on his heel and marched back to his mount, and the two girls each took one of Penny's hands and pulled her with them.
'Where are you taking me?' she cried, not sure that she was wise to go with them. They were obviously primitive savages. Who knew what they might have in mind for her?
The rest of the riders watched as Kotsoteka and the two girls dragged the reluctant Penny to one of the lizard mounts, a brightly-coloured dinosaur she recalled having seen in textbooks from time to time.
'You speak Herakian?' Kotsoteka asked. He had not once smiled.
'I understand,' Penny said, tears streaming down her face.
'We are taking you to Warikeewa Camp,' he continued. 'You will be taken care of.'

'I do not wish to go to Warikeewa Camp,' Penny protested. 'Please leave me here, so that I can return to my own world!'
'Where do you come from?'
'From Earth! I come from Earth! Please leave me alone!' she screamed.
'You will come with us.'
'No!'
'Put her up on the deichus,' he said, and two riders quickly dismounted and ran to where they stood. Still struggling, she was pushed up onto the rump of the creature, which stood perfectly still, quite obedient. There was no saddle, no reins. Apparently control of the beast was achieved purely by the movement of the legs and by the use of commands.
'Walk!' Kotsoteka said, and slapped the animal on the neck. It started forward, nearly spilling her onto the ground, but somehow she managed to stay upright. The riders remounted, and she noticed that Kanchankikiwana climbed up onto the beast that Kotsoteka was riding, her arms clutched loosely around his waist.
'Move off!' he ordered, and the deichus carrying Penny fell obediently into line with the others.
Looking back, she saw that the stone circle was in the middle of an enormous sandy desert valley, bordered on both sides by the towering mountains she had seen earlier. As she had thought, there was a small river trickling through the valley. Not unusual in itself, perhaps, but when she saw that the colour of the water was not blue, as she had first supposed, but green, it confirmed her belief that things on Heraklion were not identical to how they were on Earth. The two moons were still perfectly visible, though the larger appeared to have broken away from the smaller and was travelling leisurely southwards, where she supposed that it would eventually sink below the horizon. The sun was low in the sky, and from this she reasoned that it was early morning.

There were twenty riders in the group. All rode similar animals, though some were much larger than others.
'What is Warikeewa Camp?' she asked the girl riding next to her.
'Warikeewa Camp is the camp of the Warikeewa bronzeskins. It is in the province of Pekeesh.'
'Is that anywhere near Barbessel?'
'You should not cry,' Wanikiwana told her, not answering the question. 'You will not be harmed.'
'Why have you taken me prisoner?'
'You are not prisoner. You are guest of the Warikeewa. You were seen. You would not survive. Who are you and where do you come from?'
'I am called Penelope Jackson. I come from Earth. This is not Earth, is it?' She brushed away the tears, wiping her face on the sleeve of her pyjama jacket. She realised that the girl would not know what Earth was. She pointed up at the moons and tried to explain that she came from another world where there was only one moon, but although she felt that she could converse freely in Herakian, because they used far less words than any other language she knew, she had difficulty in conveying her message to the other girl.
'Where is Barbessel?' she asked again. She had heard Chuck speak of the province of Barbessel. That was where Lissa, the child princess came from, and where Marcellus and Emeric Dundas were supposed to be returning her to. What she actually said to Wanikiwana was: 'Barbessel?' It was perfectly obvious, in Herakian, that she wanted to know where it was.
Wanikiwana raised a slim bronzed finger and pointed to the west.
'Through the mountains. You are from Barbessel?'
Penny shook her head.
'No, but I need to go there.'
'Your name again?'

'Penelope. Call me Penny.'
'Pennee?'
Penny nodded. She had managed to stop crying, now that she was sure that they did not mean to harm her.
'Penny, yes.'
'Pennee.'
'Wanikiwana?'
The Red Indian girl, for that was what she was, nodded and smiled.
'How many summers?'
'Thirteen,' Penny replied.
'Fifteen,' Wanikiwana said.
'Kotso-Kotso-.....'
'Kotsoteka.'
'Kotsoteka is chief?'
'Keewa is chief.'
'Keewa?'
'Keewa. He is brother to Kotsoteka's father.'
Penny nodded.
'You were seen in the stone circle. Kotsoteka was sent to find out if you posed a threat to the Warikeewa. We have enemies.'
'In Barbessel?'
'No.'
'In Erzindjian?'
'Enemies in Erzindjian.'
'Where is Erzindjian?'
'South.'
'Far south?'
'Half a day.'

A year on Heraklion lasts approximately four hundred and twelve Earth days. An Herakian day is approximately nineteen and a half Earth hours in length. Minutes and fractions of minutes are rarely used as measurements of time. Time has no significant meaning on Heraklion. It would not matter that something could not be accomplished in a particular time, for there is always another hour, another day. Years are measured by summers, so Wanikiwana, who had seen fifteen summers, was in fact sixteen years old from her birth, because of the period of incubation following delivery of the egg. All Herakian offspring are delivered as eggs. They are taken to incubators, which are to be found in all provinces, and at strategic distances from settlements, cities and villages. Incubation is achieved by exposing the eggs to a particular type of light, the nature of which was known only to the keepers of the incubators, and lasts for a period of approximately seven months, following which the infant is returned to its mother. The incidence of twins is extremely rare. All animals, conversely, suckle their young, with the exception of insects, birds and molluscs, of which there are a great and colourful variety. The exception to the rule of bird offspring is the silki, the enormous eagle-like bird which is capable of carrying men. These animals suckle their young.
'Warikeewa Camp. How far?'
'Through the pass. We will be at the camp by midsun.'
'How many people?'
'Many.'
Again, although there are proper conventions for counting in Herakian, the concept of counting above a hundred is rarely used, particularly in the more primitive peoples.
'Can I get to Barbessel?'
'It is possible. Warikeewa Camp first.'

They carried on in silence for a time. The further they went towards the mountains, the calmer Penny became, realising that her situation was not quite as bad as it had first seemed. She was now convinced that her captors meant her no harm, and that it might even be possible for them to help her to get to Barbessel, though she was not completely sure that was where she needed to be. It was unlikely that the Warikeewa people, being so far north of Erzindjian, would know of Marcellus, and since she had arrived on Heraklion, she had received no further indication that he was in trouble and no longer with the princess. But it was worth a try.
'Do you know of Marcellus?' She almost said 'Marcellus, a Roman boy, from Earth', but it would have been meaningless.
Wanikiwana shook her head, and Penny returned to her thoughts of Earth, and how she could have been so stupid as to try to come to a place like this. The rest of the journey to Warikeewa camp was conducted in silence. They came out of the valley and into the vast green plains that form the main part of Pekeesh, stretching north for several hundred miles to the permafrost region which in the winter months connects the mainland with the sub-continent of Zindora. Penny stared open-mouthed at the lush green pastures that lay before her, bordered on the left by the same mountain range she had seen from the stone circle, and which had been on their left during the whole of the journey. To the right and ahead of them there was nothing but green prairie, broken occasionally by hills and knots of trees, and already she could see the first of the vast herds of washak, a kind of buffalo with antlers which provide the main meat content of the Warikeewa and other Indian tribes' diets. Then, abruptly, as they came over a ridge, she saw the camp.

The camp of the Warikeewa was laid out like a small town, with something in the region of five or six hundred dwellings. There were groups of dwellings arranged in circles, each circle forming the perimeter of a larger circle, and in the centre there was an enormous building, identical in shape and structure, forty feet high, with clear ground in front of it. Around the entire camp, and encompassing it, was a tall wooden fence. The layout of the camp was visible in such detail because they approached it from relatively high ground. The trail that led to the camp was well worn, and it seemed perfectly obvious to Penny that the Warikeewa were not nomadic, but had settled here in the shadow of the mountains, close to the vast herds of washak they had seen shambling across the plains, and near to the river that flowed through the camp and off to the north coast.
They entered the camp through a kind of gate which was nothing more than a large pole stretched across the perimeter wall and moved aside for their benefit by willing hands. The dwellings were substantial, some ten feet high at the apex, a kind of flattened cone in the form of a semicircle of hides laid carefully and precisely across timbers, this upper part of the structure resting on a permanent stone wall with a simple entrance formed by leaving a gap. That the hide coverings were semi-permanent and renewable was evident from the fact that here and there groups of men and women were busy doing just that, taking off the old coverings for burning and replacing them with newer, more supple ones which would provide more protection from the cruel north winds that blew across the plains during the winter months. The entire camp was a complex infrastructure of small groups, interdependent upon one another for their survival.
With Kotsoteka at their head they marched down the central track to the large structure in the centre of the camp. There Kotsoteka strutted around, occasionally whooping, shaking his axe, but generally making no threat towards her. The warriors who had been with him when they found Penny formed a circle around her, and after a while men and women from all over the camp came running to the central area to see what it was that Keewa was whooping about. At last, when a sizeable crowd had formed about us, the hide flap of the central building was moved aside and an older man emerged. This was obviously Keewa, the chief of the Warikeewa.
'The girl was at the stone circle. She would not have survived.'
'I recognise her,' Keewa said.

'She is from Barbessel,' Wanikiwana said. Kotsoteka held up his hand to warn her to silence.
'I know she is from Barbessel,' Keewa said. 'She is the kjalinna.'
Kotsoteka nodded thoughtfully.
'I heard that she had been kidnapped.'
'She will stay here tonight. At sunrise you will return her to her father in Barbessel.'
'As you say.'
The group of youths who had formed the circle around Penny now began to disperse.
'Wait!' she cried. 'I am from Earth!'
Keewa, who had been about to go back inside his tent, paused and turned to look at the young girl.
'You are Lissa, kjalinna of Barbessel,' he said gravely. 'We will return you safely to your father tomorrow at sunrise.'
'No, you do not understand! I am not Lissa!'
Keewa's eyes widened, and then he broke into a laugh. For a moment there was complete silence except for him laughing, then others, led by Kotsoteka, started to join in.
'She had a strange cloak.....' Kanchankikiwana said, taking the yellow cape from the deichus, where she had kept it safely during their journey. She handed it to Kotsoteka, who, feeling its strange texture, dropped it, frowning, then bent to retrieve it.
'What is the material?' he asked Penny, holding it out to her.
'PVC,' she replied. It was, of course, quite meaningless to them. They had never heard of PVC.

'Poly Vinyl Chloride,' she said, her voice raising at the end, so that it came out more as a question than a statement of fact. They had not heard of that either. Kanchankikiwana approached Penny and laid her hand on the fabric of Penny's pyjama top, which was a silky kind of substance.
'What material is this?' she asked, quietly.
'Silk,' Penny whispered, for she could not think of the actual fabric. There were gasps as she said it, for she used the English word, not aware of any equivalent word in the strange language of Heraklion. The word 'silk' was remarkably similar in sound to the word 'silki' which was the enormous bird of the desert provinces, that which had been tamed and used for transporting men and weapons into battle. Everyone knew that the silki was covered with feathers. It was inconceivable that a fabric such as that which Penny's clothing was made from could originate from the silki bird.
Penny shook her head.
'Not silki,' she said. 'Silk.'
They shook their heads, failing to understand.
'Give her fresh clothing,' Keewa said, taking the shiny yellow cape from Kotsoteka. He opened it out and discovered the hole in the centre through which he found he could put his head. As the cape slipped down past his waist there were cried of delight from the watching crowds, and he beamed with delight. He turned to Penny, his eyebrows raised quizzically. There was no doubt that he was asking her to make him a gift of it.
'It is yours,' she muttered. The audience was over. The two girls led Penny to their hut and helped her to bathe and to change into more practical clothing. A leather tunic covered a soft cotton vest, then a wide leather belt was slipped around her waist and from it they hung two pieces of soft, decorated hide, one at the front, one at the back. It was soft and comfortable. Then they turned their attention to her temple. First they gently examined the scab to make sure the wound was clean, and when they were satisfied that it was, they cleaned and dressed it, fastening another piece of hide, this time coloured bright red, around her forehead to keep the dressing in place.

Outside the hut it was becoming quite dark as the storm clouds rolled in. She was offered food and drink, and she ate and drank her fill with relish. Now she was getting tired, and they showed her a couch which she could use. Penny Jackson stretched out on the couch and stared up at the roof of the hut, breathing deeply, as all of her fears surfaced once more.
Abruptly, she sat up.
'I need the toilet,' she whispered. Kanchankikiwana laughed merrily and they took her outside and showed her a closet with a channel dug into the soil and leading away from the hut, towards the outer perimeter wall. A few moments later she was back on her couch, staring up at the night sky through the hole in the roof. Her mind began to wander. She thought about Chuck, and as she gazed up at the stars she had the strangest feeling that Chuck and a number of other people she did not know were standing over her gazing down at her, their faces distorted as though she was looking at them through some kind of photographic lens. Then her eyes closed, and she slept.

To be continued.....