It was Lorna Donwright. She stood on the edge of the wide hole, gazing down at Amber, an expression of puzzlement on her face.
"I grew worried about you when I didn’t see you at the market. Yesterday my husband said you didn’t show up for work. Today I went to your house and you weren’t there. I told Father Morten; for some reason he thought you might be here. Amber, what in the Skylord’s name are you doing?"
Amber sighed, "It doesn’t matter, Lorna."
"No, I want to know."
Amber looked over at the hunters. There were more of them now; they just stood and watched her dig.
"I’m rebuilding this shrine."
"But why?"
"For the Dunfolk."
Amber returned to her work. There was still an impossibly long way to dig. She had barely scratched the surface. The water would be very deep, and she knew nothing about laying stones. If it wasn’t done properly the water would be muddy and undrinkable.
After some time she looked up, Lorna was gone.
~
SHE slept beside the hole in the forest, having eaten some hard bread she had brought with her. One of the hunters had left a deerskin. She assumed it was for her. It stopped her from freezing at night.
In the morning she returned to her digging. The hunters were back again; this time there were nearly ten of them. She ignored them and continued as the sun rose higher in the sky.
Suddenly a man dropped to the ground beside her. Father Morten. He had a shovel in his hand. He said nothing, simply started to dig. Amber looked up. Lorna stood at the edge of the hole, holding a basket in her hands. She began taking the dirt away in loads.
Amber felt a lightening of her heart. Father Morten smiled at her.
~
LATER in the day two boys appeared, young lads with boundless energy. They seemed to make a game out of the digging. Amber left them to dig while she helped Lorna remove the soil and rock as it piled up beside the hole.
"Mind if I help?" it was Hollie Ronson. She stood awkwardly with her father, Tod Ronson. "My father, he was a stonemason."
"Of course," Amber said.
Hollie began to collect the stones that were littered around the ground, arranging them by size. Her father, an ancient man with thinning white hair, grinned and started to examine the area with a marked rope.
There were more of the Dunfolk watching now. Some women had joined the group. They didn’t say anything, nor did they laugh, or smile. They simply looked on as the townsfolk worked.
More people began to arrive, mainly women from the town. Amber recognised one of the market vendors, the one who never had any fruit. The woman gave her a broad smile and started to help carting the dirt away.
The well was a flurry of activity now. Amber could see it begin to take form. Tod Ronson gestured wildly, enjoying himself thoroughly, directing the women and boys as they lined up the stones and dug deeper, ever deeper.
There were now hundreds of the townsfolk around the well, too many to perform the work. Many just watched, smiling and holding hands. They formed a large crowd around the workers, pitching in wherever possible.
A short distance away the Dunfolk formed their own crowd. Their faces were very serious, almost grave. Amber glanced at them occasionally but they just stood off to the side, watching.
Suddenly there was a cheer from the diggers. "Water! We’ve hit water!"
The townsfolk all cheered along, hugging each other, beaming. Amber had never felt such a part of the people around her.
Without warning Tod Ronson jumped down into the hole. He started calling for more stones. People passed them along in a chain, each stone passing through a score of hands on its way into the well.
The sun moved through the sky and started to fall. It sent slanted light through the trees, the rays diffused by the lush greenery, casting a golden glow on the clearing. Amber could see why they had chosen it now. It was a beautiful place.
Buckets started to come out of the hole as the muddy water was drained out. Amber and two other women worked on the well’s rim, creating a low wall around the entire circumference, the stones fitting together beautifully.
As the sun was beginning to set, people started to jump out of the hole, leaving just Tod Ronson behind. He busied himself for a while longer, and then called out, "Let me up!"
Two big lads leaned down, each taking an arm and lifting the old man out of the hole. He was drenched to the waist, but Amber had never seen a smile so broad. He beamed out at the onlookers.
He sat on the low wall and gazed into the well, a look of pride on his face.
"Mr Ronson!" one of the boys called. He threw a wooden pail to the old man, who caught it deftly. A long rope was tied to the handle. "Give it a go."
He shook his head, and turned, looking directly at Amber.
Suddenly all eyes were on Amber.
"Here," Tod Ronson said, holding out the bucket.
Amber walked over to the well and took the handle of the bucket. She took a deep breath.