Chapter 22 - The durséar refuge

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The muïréal's dwelling sank underground, disappearing under the rounded hill covered with grass as if it wanted to erase its presence on the Great Plains. Apart from the small place with the trampled earth that Taghna had seen on her arrival, there were no signs to suggest that the place was inhabited.

Behind the entrance, uneven and slippery steps led down to the darkness. Men and women entered the tunnel eagerly, the opening of which seemed to be a mouth that swallowed them one by one. Taghna approached the entrance with anguish.

She realized that she had not been very careful. She was panicked, carrying Slavan burning with fever on her shoulders, and she had rushed to the first source of human activity she had found without thinking about the danger she might encounter or the danger she was putting her brataïr into.

She had no reason to believe the word of the ageless man who had greeted her. Nor could she be sure where this woman, whose wrinkles made her look like a séalyar and who spoke Séaroën's language, had come from. Taghna had trusted her instincts and had believed the two muïréal, as these people called themselves, but this dark tunnel did not inspire her much confidence.

After all, the muïréal could very well capture the exiles who were wandering around the Great Plains. According to Taghna's knowledge, just finding a village in this hostile environment did not bode well. Perhaps the muïréal were imprisoning the durséar they collected. Worse, perhaps, in these foodless plains, the inhabitants fed on people to survive.

These sordid thoughts crept into Taghna's mind. She did not doubt that she could get out of it if she had to fight, but Slavan, weak and half unconscious, was in their hands. So Taghna decided to follow the procession and went into the tunnel. A faint smell of wild beasts emanated from the walls polished by the comings and goings of the inhabitants. The scent, however, was old enough that Taghna did not care much about it.

Taghna continued on her way carefully. With her heart beating, her gaze fixed on the person in front of her, she held her breath. It led to a gigantic circular room. She was not expecting such a vision, and she was stunned, motionless by the size of the room.

Compared to Séaroën's mataïg, which was the largest building that Taghna had ever seen and could not accommodate more than a few people at a time, the muïréal's abode could easily house all the inhabitants of the village.

Its high ceiling gave an impression of grandeur and the fact that it was underground, sheltered from the weather, wind and cold, made it a safe, reassuring place. Lighting was provided by torches hung on the walls as well as by the huge fireplace in the centre of the room. Its fireplace, a round tower with graceful curves rising to the ceiling. With the walls painted a light brown colour, the room was almost luminous.

Taghna also noticed that strange tubes connected to the fireplace ran along the ceiling and walls. The chimney looked like a large tree trunk that was divided into many branches. Tahna first thought that these were construction elements, beams of sorts, that served to keep the structure of the underground room intact, like the beams of the Séaroën dwellings.

Intrigued, Taghna put her hand on one of the tubes next to her. She pulled her arm out sharply. The tubes were burning hot. She realized that they were actually hollow and were spreading heat throughout the room.

The feeling of oppression that Taghna had felt a few moments ago had completely dissipated.

The group that had welcomed Taghna and Slavan had scattered here and there in the many rooms that lined the main room. Taghna had a brief moment of panic when she thought Slavan had disappeared, but she finally saw him, still helped by the villagers. They were walking to the back of the room.

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