Rise of the Harlequin

by Roberto Ricci

  Half of them were dressed in Red with white mantles and the other half was dressed in white with red mantles. I also realized that one half was male while the other half comprised female warriors. Yet, judging from the way they moved and how they managed their swords, they probably knew how to use them just as well as their male counterparts.

  These newcomers quickly placed themselves between the Red soldiers and us, forming a bristly and deadly barrier. Immediately the other Red soldiers began to back off.

  “Ah yes, the Parabathai warriors,” commented Erai. “The silent and loyal guardians of our beloved royal family, or what’s left of it. Always running a bit late aren’t we? Pity you weren’t there to defend Quadrio when he was brutally murdered inside the castle. Or perhaps you were?”

  The warriors didn’t’ say anything and I suspected they were ready to go to arms against the other Reds. This was something I had yet to see in the territories: soldiers of the same army fighting each other. But apparently no one wanted to fight these warriors and Erai knew it. He spoke again: “Cestia, I shall ask you one last time: will you leave this Harlequin to us and order your Parabathais back inside the shrine?”

  I whispered to her: “For the love of the gods, save yourself! Pretend to go along. I’ll manage to escape. Don’t worry about me.”

  She surprised me by saying something that would change the course of our friendship, forever.

  “No! You trusted me. It is time I trust you.”

  She drew herself up. Despite her fatigue and wounds, I had never seen her look more regal. “It is obvious that war with the Black has put us all under tremendous strain. If I have let you down, I am ready to pay the price. I do not want to be the cause of yet another internal conflict among us and I am ready to leave.”

  “If we are here, if Samaris is in ruins, and if the Blacks are now lurking our kingdom it is certainly because of your father,” thundered Erai. “And you are the heiress of this tragedy. You cannot just leave without paying the consequences.”

  Even the other nobles knew he’d stepped over a line. In an instant, the narrow gully turned into a seething mass of arms and legs as the Reds began fighting each other. I realized that, in such close quarters, with emotions running hot, this would escalate into a fight to the death.

  I raced to shield Cestia with my body while a part of my mind, long attuned to battle, stayed separate and focused on the fray so I could seek an advantage. The Parabathai warriors in the mean time moved silently and sinuously, in pairs, against the other Red soldiers.

  The Black horse began to panic. It stove in a couple of skulls with some well aimed kicks and threatened to trample Cestia and me. I eased the princess between the backs of a fighting Parabathai pair and mounted the horse to calm it down.

  At that moment, a soldier managed to stab one of the partners guarding Cestia. Erai disarmed the other, but the noble was still in for a world of hurt. The warrior herded Cestia back against a protective rock wall and deftly grabbed Erai’s belt from his waist. In the hands of a master, belt beats sword every time. The Parabathai used it like a whip to disarm Erai and then wrapped it around the noble’s scrawny neck to choke him.

  Seeing Erai in trouble made the soldiers stop, and Cestia commanded her Parabathai to stand down, as well. She showed mercy and gave the order to spare her enemy— which was a lot more than her enemy would ever have done for her.

  While the warrior held Erai in his grip, I took advantage of the lull to speak.

  “I knew Quadrio!” I said, “He was better than all of you put together, and so is his daughter!” I rode the horse right up to Erai and looked down my nose at him with all the disdain I could muster. “Do you really think she’s sparing your miserable hide out of fear? No… she does not wish to see Red fight against Red.”

  “You speak rightly,” Cestia said; then to her guard: “Release him.” The warrior gave Erai a shove and he fell at my horse’s feet.

  I pretended to think hard for a moment. “Hmmm…Now that I recall… you were in the throne room when Quadrio was assassinated, noble Erai. How did you get there so fast?” I said. It was a lie, but that whining little bug deserved whatever misfortune he’d get from it.

  He tried to recover his dignity: “We shall let you go Cestia, with the promise of never coming back.” He said.

  “I shall leave on my own terms, Erai!” she rebutted. “And only because I know that ending this rift between us will bring peace to this small remainder of my battle-weary soldiers – I take no action on your account.” Then she faced her troops. “Please have the decency to make my horse and my guardians’ mounts ready. We won’t deprive you of any of your dwindling supplies.”

  Many looked shamed, but their protests were few. They bowed and obeyed her; probably for the last time. Her wound started to bleed, again, but she refused to notice.

  Several horses were ushered through the crowd. The first one, a spirited white horse, clearly belonged to Cestia. I helped her mount it while her guardians mounted on the others. There was an awkward moment of silence, during which only the wind could be heard. We slowly began to make our way out of the gulch.

  “May Adio and Adia protect all of you.” Cestia declared, raising her hand in farewell.

  I thought the Reds had made a poor trade in taking Erai’s authority over hers, but I suspected they would soon pay dearly for a decision made in fear.

  As we winded our way through the labyrinth of rocks and back down the mountain, I studied our surroundings, expecting to see Red archers come after us, but they didn’t. Cestia rode ahead of me. I wanted to ride by her side, but the passage was so narrow two horses could make their way, together. It was a great hideaway, but it could also be a great trap, I thought, with no means of a quick escape.

  Back on the desolate plain, I caught up to Cestia. “You did the right thing,” I told her. “The only thing you could have done, under the circumstances.”

  Although she nodded at my words, I heard a quiet, wrenching sob come from inside her mask. “Forgive me. My wound is hurting,” she finally said.

  We stopped and lit a campfire, not far from where a herd of Orange cattle grazed. The Parabathai warriors silently took care of everything. Two of the female warriors medicated Cestia with unguents. They seemed to work for she immediately stopped bleeding. Then they wrapped her in a plush robe, helped her clean herself up and remove her Violet disguise. In no time at all, she was dressed once again as the familiar Red princess, looking as beautiful and as radiant as the first time I’d seen her riding her chariot outside Samaris.

  “You are very lucky to have such faithful custodians,” I told her. “Why didn’t you bring them with you when you came looking for me?”

  “Because they can’t speak,” she said. “And I needed soldiers who could pretend we were Violets.”

  “And to seek information on my whereabouts,” I added.

  She nodded.

  I observed them moving with soundless efficiency and communicating with each other by a silent language of gesture and movement.

  “Are they mute?” I asked.

  “No,” she replied. “They have simply sworn to silence.”

  I must have looked puzzled, so she gave me the history of these unusual warriors. “The Parabathai are almost as old as Samaris, itself. They are lover-warriors sacred to Adio and Adia who are sworn to silence in order to increase their other senses and make them extremely vigilant.”

  “Well after seeing them in action back there, I can see they don’t just throw kisses at their enemies.”

  This seemed to lighten her up a bit as I heard a quick giggle under her mask.

  “Their most powerful weapon is the love they have for each other. By having their lover near, their fighting and survival skills are far keener than any normal warrior, because they have so much to lose. It is said their love is stronger than the enemy’s hate.”

  I had never thought of love as a weapon, before. Cestia continued: “That is one of
the methods we used in defeating the Blacks during our last great war – the one we had before the cowardly surprise attack against us, I mean.”

  “I lost my father in that war,” I confessed.

  “And I lost my brother.”

  We remained silent for a while, lost in painful memory. Night fell, wrapped in a dark velvet mantle of stars. We both gazed at their cold, twinkling lights in unison.

  To my surprise, she removed her mask. The fires that had been lit by the Parabathai illuminated her pale face. For a moment, I saw the familiar expression of sorrow I’d glimpsed in Chtomio’s eyes when I first met him on the Cancerian.

  “What will you do now?” I then asked facing her.

  “I will do what I set out to do. Seek an alliance with the other nations to crush the Black once and for all. Tomorrow I shall go and speak with the Yellow chromes of Doryca.”

  “Without the Red army to back you?”

  “They will eventually come to their senses,” She said. “And when they do, I will be there for them. I will be there with the other nations, too, ready to free the Territories.”

  “Why not start with the Orange?” I asked. “I mean, we are here in their Territory!”

  She looked at me and said: “The Orange and Yellow cities are almost attached to each other so once we reach Doryca we shall have reached Crodya as well. But tell me, Asheva, did you see any Orange come to our aid during the fall of Samaris?”

  I shook my head. “But I didn’t see any Yellow or Violet either. Or Blue.”

  “Exactly!” she replied. “Everyone worries about their own little field, indifferent to the storm that sweeps away the others’ harvest and unable to figure out that the same storm can ultimately sweep away their crops, too. Even worse, chromes like the Orange deliberately exploit such hardships to their advantage.” She looked meaningfully at the grazing cattle.

  “Perhaps you are exaggerating Cestia. Have you spoken with the Orange? Or have you reached these conclusions by yourself?”

  “I…know all about the Orange. I know what they are like,” she said.

  “That’s my point – you only know what you’ve been told.” I spoke softly to her: “If you are to succeed, you cannot leave any stone unturned. You said it yourself, back at the Red camp – you have to be open; you have to be humble and embrace the others — make them your allies, not your enemies.”

  “What about you?” she said changing the course of our discussion. “What will you do with the next sunrise?”

  “I’ll come with you and then… Afterward go back to where my friends are, in Everdia.” What I really wanted to say was I’ll come with you and then stay with you.

  “Everdia,” she repeated. “Is that your new home?”

  “I don’t have a home,” I replied. “The territories are my home.”

  “It must be sad.”

  “What?”

  “Not having a home. I am beginning to understand what it feels like.”

  “You have not lost your home, Cestia,” I told her. “Samaris is always there. Even if it now lies in ruins, I have faith that you will rebuild it, a hundred times more beautiful than before.”

  She stood looking at me for a moment. “And will you do the same with Axyum, once it’s destroyed? Rebuild it?”

  “I will never set foot in Axyum, again,” I replied.

  “I don’t believe that,” she said. “Eventually, the river of life takes everyone back to their home. And it will take you back too.”

  Hearing those words, the thoughts of my mother and my father weighed heavily in my heart.

  Cestia then looked up at firmament and said: “When we Red rise again, I vow to abolish the caste system in my kingdom. This war will change things, forever.”

  “It already has,” I said.

  She leaned closer to me and I instinctively put my arm around her, not sure if I was dreaming.

  “Why do you want to come with me?” she said looking at me. “This is not your war after all.” I felt like her soul was searching for something I did not know I had.

  Suddenly words that had been caged deep inside my heart were finally set free.

  “Because I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. Because ever since I met you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

  She did not reply. Instead, her hand reached for mine and her lips brushed my lips as if it were the most natural of things. As if they were the only things that mattered in the heavens above and the lands below. And at least for that night, they were.

  24. The Twin Cities

  The next morning, a loud, clanging sound startled me from my slumber. A sword and a shield had been thrown at my feet by a Red Parabathai who apparently wasn’t too eager to come near me.

  I looked for Cestia, but she was no longer beside me – she was dressed, with her silver mask in place, and already riding her white stallion. “Now that the Harlequin is done with his beauty sleep, we are leaving,” she said. “Get ready.” She gave this as an order, but I smiled, for the tone of her voice was softer — a wonderful reminder of how things had changed between us. With the new dawn, I felt an unexpected warmth come over me. I felt as if the gods would always be at my side from now on. I was joyful.

  There were twenty-four Parabathai in all and they made two lines, the female to the left and the male to then right. I dressed quickly, splashed water on my face and saddled up my horse. I urged her over to where Cestia was.

  “Where are we going?” I asked cheerfully. “To Doryca?”

  “As I told you yesterday, Doryca and Crodya are close to each other. So we shall speak with both Yellow and Orange.”

  Her mask prevented me from seeing her face, so I had no clue as to her thoughts, but now I detected a slight tension in her voice.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes!” she was quick to say. Too quick.

  After our kiss in the night, we slept innocently in each other’s arms. Had I still done something to offend her? Or, more likely (I told myself) it was the events of the last few days catching up to her. Why was she suddenly acting so reserved? Perhaps it is a female thing, I thought.

  We galloped side by side not saying anything for quite a while.

  “I’ve been thinking about your Parabathai soldiers,” I spoke at last. “It doesn’t make sense to have them as escorts.”

  “And why is that?” she said, her voice gelid.

  “Well, when push comes to shove, whom will your warriors defend — their lover or you?”

  “I can take care of myself,” she said, dismissingly. She moved up ahead and I spurred my horse to catch up with her.

  “Are you sure everything is all right?” I asked again.

  No response.

  “Is something the matter?”

  Her mask then turned to face me. “Is something the matter? Everything is the matter!” she burst out. “My reign is finished, my nation hates me and …I even disobeyed the Collective Laws!”

  “When did you disobey the Collective Laws?” I asked naively.

  “You! Us!” she snapped. “Chromes of different colors cannot stay together. It is wrong!”

  “But I am not a chrome,” I said smilingly. “I am a Harlequin!”

  “Yes, you are Asheva!” she replied. “You are a Black chrome! You told me yourself, remember?”

  I nodded. “I also told you that it was your father that revealed to me that the chrome is a lie. That we are not different and I showed you the Scopium to prove it. It is all a lie, Cestia. We are the same. And there is certainly nothing wrong if a humble Harlequin kisses a beautiful Red princess.”

  To my great relief, I heard her giggle inside the mask. “Certainly it’s true that Harlequins deceive – you’re very good at tricking my heart.”

  I laughed with her, but I was slightly confused. Her moods changed faster than the clouds in the sky! Were all young females like this? My mother never seemed so, but then, Black female chromes were taught from a young age to
be just like their male counterparts. I had learned a lot about the Territories, but it turned out I still knew nothing about courting a female chrome.

  Cestia broke my reverie. “Come, ride with me!” She said. She kicked her horse into a gallop that swallowed me in a cloud of dust. We rode together all day, well out of Parabathai earshot, and it was as if we were once again alone, just the two of us talking about everything and nothing. It seemed as if the gods had stopped time only for the two of us and I had never felt so happy before. As we chased each other with our horses, we proceeded east, along the Orange mountain range until we hit a wide, calm river I’d never seen before. Cestia called it the Yara river.

  Freshwater marshes created from past floods and rugged caramel cliffs provided a haven for wildlife. Shrieking hawks wheeled overhead.

  To our right, in the mountains’ shadow were two ancient cities that faced each other alongside the river. Although divided by the river, one long suspension bridge connected the two.

  It was easy to tell the cities had been designed by the same hand. Each had the same style of towers and multi-storied, twin domed-palaces that could be seen peeking up from behind stone walls. The only difference was that the city on the right boasted a tremendous, copper dome while the one to the left possessed a dome of gold leaf. Another distinctive thing about the cities was their color. The stonework of the right city had a warm, orange cast while the city on the left made use of heavily veined yellow rock that glittered in the sun.

  “I’m guessing your journeys had not taken you to the twin cities yet,” said Cestia, probably noticing my wonder.

  This was an understatement. To me, their architecture was a marvel of ancient chrome crafting and their colors were as vibrant as a fire. I didn’t care that I looked like a rube. I couldn’t wait to see for myself, first-hand, what wonders those cities might contain.

  “I had no idea they were identical,” I said.

  “The one to the left is Doryca, home of the Yellow chromes, while the one to the right is…

  “Crodya, the city of the Orange,” I grinned. “Not particularly hard to guess.”