Words for Wednesday - Mary and Allan revisited - 3

The story of the people from the Wieliczka salt mine continued.

Words:
Wardrobe
Silhouette
Sergeant
Dispensation

Placebo
Displeasure
Sympathy
Discretion

Used here: None.

  Aboard the plane Granny T served the wieliczkan people mugs of hot soup and pierogi with meat and chopped vegetables. They were all tied to a seat and George, Pete and some of the men from the plane stood at intervals armed with clubs and spears. They felt melodramatic, but necessity taught them to look tough. Slowly the plane filled. Ravenous mine and mountain people were dried, tied and fed, and Fr. Paul began talking to one of them.

  Outside the trickle of refugees left off. Allan and his boat reached the right mountain from the side away from land and mountains. they looked up, the mountain was empty, no crevices or big rocks could be seen. They sailed along the bottom of the mountain and found a trail of blood leading down to the water's edge. They inched closer. Someone called from the other mountain, and Allan bade the others be on the look out while he put the binoculars to his eyes and looked at the yelling man. The man on the other mountaintop pointed to a point further along and made a chopping movement over his throat. Then he pointed higher, further on and held his hands in an attitude of prayer. Allan understood: "The dead one is a bit further along, and even further we will find the assailant in need of help. You still use all your ears and eyes, please. They followed the base of the mountain and sure enough., A woman lay in the water. No doubt that she was dead. A big hole in her head was still slowly oozing blood, and her face was under water. They gave her a wide berth. Another bit further along a bleeding, but still breathing woman lay in the water. One of her legs lay in an awkward angle, surely broken, wounds on arms and upper body spoke of her ungentle descent from the mountaintop.
  Allan spoke to her: "We're here to help you. Do you understand?"
  "Elp, Pomoc!" the woman said and fainted.
  "Get her in," Allan said and Susan and Janne, the young women, they had found in the fort, pulled her aboard, as gently as possible. All the rest of the crew were still at the lookout.
  "The bow," Allan said. "I wonder where it is?"
  "Still on the lady over there?" Michael, the boy from the fort guessed. They turned the boat and rowed back to the dead leader. She was dressed in black robes, many layers flowing and trailing from her body. Michael grasped her dress and pulled her to the railing. He tied her to it with a rope and then searched her. "Nope, no bow. Leave me here. I'll search this mountaintop for it."
  "I don't like it," Allan said.
  "Why not. I'm young and strong, not like these half starved ghosts here. Give me a club and I'll be able to hold my own against any of them."
  Jane spoke up: "I go with him. I'm used to fighting, and all the rowing has made me strong."
  "Two is better," Allan said. "But please, please be careful. Run away and swim - you're good at that too, luckily - at the least sign of danger. Promise?"
  "Promise," the two repeated and got off the boat.

  Quickly they rowed back to the plane and handed the wounded woman over to the crew aboard the plane. The dead leader was tied to one of the ropes hanging from the plane and they quickly went back for Janne and Michael. Tom was not happy with what they had done, but understood the need. "You can bring the clothes and weaponry back And anything else you find. Search the mountains and the land behind it. I'll send another boat your way soon. We have almost all aboard now."

  It was not far and Allan and his crew rowed as if their life depended on their speed. Nothing untoward had happened, and Janne and Micael stood on the mountainside, carrying a bow, a bag and some clothing, When they pulled close, they saw that both Michael and Janne had cuts and bruises on arms and legs, and a man lay, bound and bandaged in a crevice nearby. A big box stood on another boulder.
  "Arrows," Janne said pointing to the box. "You have a tale to tell," Alan said, "but it's got to wait."
  They loaded the cargo and the wounded prisoner in the boat and Janne and Michael climbed aboard. They told that the man had lain behind a boulder waiting for them, but they were young, well fed and quick of mind and limb, so he had the worst of it. The bruises came from a fall, not from the fight with the man at all.
  On the other mountaintop they gathered the clothes, a sorry, smelly bundle and Janne volunteered to search the top. Susan went with her and the boat waited until they returned with empty hands.
Meanwhile the other big boat had reached them and together they sailed the rest of the distance to the mountain range. A worn path led to a cave. Only broken implements, some half rotten fruits and a big, heavy iron pot were left in the cave.
  Allan put all the fruit into the pot and carried it with him. "Mary would not like me to leave anything that might grow, behind," he offered as explanation. They found a suitcase and some backpacks behind a boulder. They also found the fire, that had caught their eyes last night and the red shirt on a pole. They took all of it and carried everything down to the boats.

  Allan, Mary and Mona volunteered to stay with the floating village. Ulla, Bo and their three children also joined them, as did Minna and George with his and Jill's children, Lil'George, Janet, Gregor and baby June.
  Back in the plane Tom stood in front of the rows of seats with the tied and sated wieliczkans in front of him. "How many of you speak English?" he asked. Ten of them raised their hands. "And German, French, Italian, other languages but Polish?" Eleven more raised their hands among those a pregnant woman. Eva asked, in Polish: "How many do only speak Polish," An elderly couple, three youngish men and two timid looking girls raised their hands. "And what about those two over there?" Tom asked, pointing to the tied and bandaged, but still unconscious man who had assaulted Janne and Michael and the woman who had killed the black-clad leader.
  The man who had swum all the way to the plane answered: "The woman speaks only Polish, she's Beata. She was one of the very few who always opposed Strega, our leader, later tyrant. The man is Italian, I think. He speaks a lot of languages badly. He was the Strega's right hand."
  "Yes true that," the pregnant woman said. "I'm Bella, also Italian, but my job was to teach English literature at the university in Florence. He, Francesco, is an Italian, from somewhere North."
  "Could you please tell what happened from an end?" Tom asked her. "And if anybody has something to add, raise your hand." Eva, ask the Polish-only people the same, write down, what they say and let's compare afterwards. Anyone else speaking the relevant languages, feel free to tackle the group of people you understand."
  Father Paul said: "I'll take the Italians."
  And Sally, who had kept much in the background since the plane and the floating village met, rose and said: "I have studied German for many years, let me take that group."
  A game much like musical chairs ensued with the extra spice that all occupants of chairs had to be untied and then retied after finding a new place in their language group.
  At long last even father Paul was done with the asking and writing and the interrogators sat around a table, reading aloud, clarifying, going back to their group to ask more questions. Granny T served coffee, this helped immensely on the general well being.