BEATRICE THE SIXTEENTH (12)

By: Irene Clyde
July 4, 2024

AI-assisted illustration by HILOBROW

Beatrice the Sixteenth: Being the Personal Narrative of Mary Hatherley, M.B., Explorer and Geographer (1909), by the English feminist, pacifist, and non-binary or transgender lawyer and writer Irene Clyde (born Thomas Baty) introduces us to Armeria, an ambiguous utopia — to which we are introduced initially without any firm indications of its inhabitants’ genders. HiLoBooks is pleased to serialize this ground-breaking novel for HILOBROW’s readers.

BEATRICE THE SIXTEENTH: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13.

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XII

THE CAVES

We struck up to the right, after emerging on the far side of the hills.

“It’s easy to work to the left,” Ilex observed. “They kept together pretty much till they reached the plain, on that side; and we got between them and the mountains. This way, a good many of them must be lurking about — so, if you please, we’ll proceed with all due precautions. And we’ll leave our horses here, and scramble.”

Every now and again our scouts, higher up the hill, signalled to us the existence of places which it was desirable to examine. We constantly came upon bits of caves, ourselves; but in none of them were there any traces of human beings. Still, they all needed exploring; so our progress was slow. And the luxuriant vegetation, which, in contrast to the opposite slope, covered many acres of this side of the mountains, constantly made us lose touch with our outlying links.

“There’s Ochônal gone and lost herself again,” observed Ilex to me with vexation. “She’ll be getting caught one of these days. And I see Thalyssa, who ought to be keeping close to her —look; under those ivied branches.”

We were passing under a sheer wall of limestone rock, over which hung festoons of bewildering green creepers and parasites. Above it, one saw Thalyssa, pushing her way cautiously on.

“Nothing in that rock, anyway,” Ilex began; when the girl who was walking next us suddenly flashed a sword across our path, and stopped us. Then in a whisper she said rapidly:

“Something is moving to the rock through those bushes. It may be a panther — but it is too slow, I think!”

I saw nothing but the waving of the grass in the wind. Ilex thought she traced something, however. The rest came scrambling quickly up, and were told to search the patch of bushes. Ilex and I, like the rest, plunged into the thicket. We reached its other side in a minute or two, and there, right before us, was an unmistakable cave-mouth — low and square.

“Whistle for the rest!” said Ilex: but, before the words were well out of her mouth, she seized me and threw me down in the dense grass beside her. A fragment of limestone fell from above, and crashed on the ground among the bushes. It was followed by another, and before we had seen the dust settle, we realised that someone above was bombarding the bushes. Thick and fast the big lumps of rock came leaping into the undergrowth, and making it quite untenable.

“I hope those folks of ours will have the sense to clear out,” Ilex said — and she shouted as loudly as possible instructions to that effect.

“Shall ! go and tell them?” I said.

“It’s no use, she answered. “Whoever’s slinging those rocks is taking aim now. And they would knock you down, once stirred. We’re safe beside these stones. They’ll tired of this game.”

“Can’t we get out by following the rock side?”

“Sorry we can’t. Look at those ridges we would have to cross! They would have us easily there.”

“What is to be done, then?”

“Wait developments, and rush out late on! Then we can join the rest. I’ll shout and ask if they can reach that unpleasant person up there with the bits of limestone.”

So she did, but no answer came back. At the same time the bombardment slackened gradually. We waited for ten minutes or so after it ceased, shouting at intervals, without being answered.

“This is not nice!” said Ilex. “Make a straight run for it now, Mêrê — no, not straight! Zigzag a bit — and keep to the left. I will go rather to the right.”

We flew as fast through the undergrowth as possible. Nobody was to be seen.

“Ah! But look!” said my companion, all at once pointing to the white rock. There a limp, loose heap lay, wedged in between a tree root and the precipitous face of the hillside. Above it was a narrow ledge with a broken little quarry behind.

“That isn’t any of our people! That’s the villain that’s given us all the trouble! How in the name of goodness did she get up there? Do you see how she’s slipped?”

“Are you sure?” I said. “Isn’t it a I dummy, perhaps? Or somebody they’ve pitched over the rocks?”

“My dear! There are easier ways of despatching people. But, now, where have our folks gone?”

“Here’s Thalyssa!” I said delightedly, as that lady, panting and quivering, appeared before us.

“My colonel, such a scramble!” she said. “I’m out of breath, getting down that hillside. What made the rest go off at such a rate?”

“Which way did they go?” asked Ilex.

“Back down the way we came, as fast as they could manage,” she answered.

“They must have misunderstood me,” remarked Ilex, with vexation. “Anyway, we’ll have another try at the cave. Have you noticed what’s been going on, Thalyssa?”

“I couldn’t see much that was close to the cliff. There was a good deal of noise, and that brought me down.”

“Well, there’s a cave in there; and Mêrê and I are going to search it. You will keep guard outside. You know the signals…”

“If Ochônal turns up,” added Ilex, looking back, “keep her with you.”

“Yes, my colonel,” returned Thalyssa, following us slowly as we passed again to the foot of the rock.

It was agreeable enough to walk to its base when once one was satisfied that there was no immediate likelihood of being battered with limestone crags. But when we stopped before the dark, low opening, it did not look exactly inviting. Clearly it was a stronghold of the enemy’s. They had not shown themselves — but was that any reason for supposing that there were not any of them there? The thought crossed my mind that Ilex was not showing herself so careful of my safety as she had been when I arrived at Ylonár.

She pushed on to the threshold. The gloom of the cavernous doorway seemed to envelop me, and the inner side of my forearm began to feel cold and damp. I found myself scraping mechanically with my fingernail the grip of the sword I had. We plunged into the cave. The surprising thing was that it was not dark. From an opening high up plenty of subdued light was admitted. It struck me that it must have been by means of this opening that access was obtained to the ledge from which the loose stones were fired. But this was a first impression, though, I believe, a correct one.

Our attention was immediately turned to the inhabitants of the place. At first we thought there were only two — two old persons who, when their first surprise was over, burst into piercing screams. But, in the dimmer recesses, we saw there was a bed, and a form lying on it.

“Bother those wretches and their screaming!” irritably observed Ilex — and, indeed, the cavern re-echoed to the roof. “Be quiet! Or by the lightning!—”

On this, they modified their outcry, which then took the form of mingled malediction and groans: and we approached the pallet in comparative peace.

It was a thin, bony creature that lay there; no associate — we judged — of the well-fed brace of screamers. A coarse garment was all her covering; she breathed heavily, and seemed hardly conscious of our presence.

“I expect,” said Ilex, her voice vibrating, “this is someone of ours that these Uras pigs have I got hold of! Wait till I talk to that sinner in yellow!”

But the girl opened her eyes with a start, and half up, clutching at Ilex’s dress.

“My dear,” said she soothingly, placing her arm round her and being to her level, “don’t be frightened don’t mind. Nobody will — Ah! Thekla!”

“Ilex! What —?”

“Oh, it surely can’t — but it is! Neith and Artemis!” said Ilex, starting up with blazing eyes and loosening the fingers that held her.

She sprang to the terrified women, then she slowly and contemptuously lowered her point.

“It is no good killing them,” she said, returning to me. “I was an idiot to want to… it is Thekla, isn’t it, Mêrê? Ask her?”

But she would only smile faintly and press our hands.

“Look here,” said Ilex, “we must take her out of this. Can you lift the bed? (What a wretched palliasse!) So! Thalyssa, go inside and take care that two people there don’t escape. Mêrê,” as we came into daylight, “it is Thekla! What can we do for her?”

I felt her pulse.

“Seems to me she’s starved, and has a kind of nervous fever,” I said. “Put her in the shade and we’ll try to get her some lemon juice. But we could sent for a palanquin to take her to some town —”

“I’ll send Thalyssa; and we can watch Thekla and those two.”

But there was a rustling noise in the bushes. And the crests of Armerian helmets appeared above them.

“I met your party, Ilex,” said a surprised voice, “and they told me you had ordered them to make the best of their way back. They thought you and Mêrê were both captured. But I see,” continued he queen, “you have been making captures instead. I must say it doesn’t seem very good management. Whom have you got killed there?”

“Oh, she isn’t killed,” said Ilex anxiously, “Would you like it if we had seen Thekla, your majesty?”

Beatrice brushed abruptly past her to the bedside. Without a word she sank beside it, and spread her arms over the tired form.

***

RADIUM AGE PROTO-SF: “Radium Age” is Josh Glenn’s name for the nascent sf genre’s c. 1900–1935 era, a period which saw the discovery of radioactivity, i.e., the revelation that matter itself is constantly in movement — a fitting metaphor for the first decades of the 20th century, during which old scientific, religious, political, and social certainties were shattered. More info here.

SERIALIZED BY HILOBOOKS: Jack London’s The Scarlet Plague | Rudyard Kipling’s With the Night Mail (and “As Easy as A.B.C.”) | Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Poison Belt | H. Rider Haggard’s When the World Shook | Edward Shanks’ The People of the Ruins | William Hope Hodgson’s The Night Land | J.D. Beresford’s Goslings | E.V. Odle’s The Clockwork Man | Cicely Hamilton’s Theodore Savage | Muriel Jaeger’s The Man With Six Senses | & many others.