Rise of the Harlequin

by Roberto Ricci

  We urged our horses onward, walking them through more herds of grazing cattle. Now I saw the brightly robed figures of Yellow and Orange chromes, wrangling their herds. When they spotted us, they made a beeline for their respective cities.

  “Why are they scared of us?” wondered Cestia.

  “I’m certain news of the war between the Red and Black has made them cautious,” I told her. “And your Parabathai warriors don’t look friendly either.”

  “What do you suggest we do then?” she asked.

  “We could leave your soldiers here while you and I go tell them why we came.”

  She gave my idea some thought, then said: “No, it’s better if I take my female warriors, instead. I shall go to Crodya first. You shall wait for my return along with my male Parabathai, on the banks of the river.”

  “Since when do you give me orders?” I snapped. “What if I want to come too?”

  “It’s your choice,” she said calmly. “But remember: no male chrome is allowed inside Crodya and the sisters have the order to kill anyone that does.”

  I looked at her surprised. “You mean Crodya, is only made up of female chromes?”

  “I thought a Harlequin would know this,” She replied. “Just like Doryca allows only male chromes inside.”

  Before I could ask more questions about how things worked between the two cities, she ordered her female guards to follow her and headed for the entrance. The male Parabathai obediently retreated to the nearest sandy riverbank.

  ““Wait!” I shouted to Cestia. “I’m coming too!”

  Cestia looked back and said: “Have you not listened to what I said? No male are allowed in Crodya!”

  “Just like no Janis were allowed in Samaris, and yet I entered, did I not?” I rebutted. In truth, I didn’t want to see her go alone to the Orange. I was worried that something might happen to her. The clash between the Black and the Red had made everyone warier, and more dangerous.

  “Exactly how will you enter Crodya?” she asked.

  “Well, you’ll just have to find out your highness,” I said ironically. And then headed straight for the entrance of Crodya.

  I did not look back but then heard her say: “Wait! Wait for me!”

  I stopped and waited for her to come once again near me. Her female Parabathai followed suit.

  “Tell your female guards to join their male counterparts near the river. It will just be you and me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it will look less threatening to the Orange.”

  For a moment, she stood on her horse, not sure of what to do. Then she nodded and gave the order. The female Parabathai silently retreated.

  “Now what, Harlequin?” she said ironically. “What magic will you perform to get us in?”

  Her words suddenly gave me an idea. Now I knew what to do.

  “Now we enter Crodya.” I told her calmly. “Just follow my lead and my words.”

  While we drew closer to the walls of the Orange city, I looked behind us to see if any of the Yellow chromes were planning to attack us from the rear. But the part of the bridge that led to the Yellow city remained deserted.

  “This is strange…” I whispered to Cestia.

  “What is?”

  “The Yellows have sequestered themselves inside Doryca. I can see them on the ramparts. They’re just watching us to see what we may do to the Orange. They’re not helping them.”

  “That’s how it is with the twin cities,” said Cestia. “So close and yet so far away.”

  A heavy iron gate, festooned with copper scrollwork, barred the only entrance into Crodya. The window of a nearby guard turret was filled with Orange feathered masks worn by archers who swiveled their bows in our direction. They made undulating howling sounds. In no time at all, they were joined by hundreds of other masked warriors at the top of the city walls. I raised both of my arms in a sign of peace. An arrow hissed over my head in response.

  “You!” screamed a female, loaded with feathers. “The one without the mask! Go away or the next arrow will not miss!”

  “Do as they say, Asheva!” said Cestia in a worried tone.

  “If I go away, thousands more like me will come and then what will you do?” I shouted back. I watched them turn and speak with each other in hushed, nervous tones.

  “What are you saying? Have you gone mad?” whispered Cestia clearly puzzled as well.

  “Who are you?” Cried the same masked chrome that had addressed me before.

  “You know who I am. There are countless stories about me. I am the Red Harlequin.”

  When they heard those words, the Orange chromes erupted in a frenzy.

  “Excellent work. You’re going to have us both killed, now!” Hissed Cestia.

  Another masked Orange leaned over the wall and said: “I don’t believe you! You’re too young to be him!”

  Still another challenged: “If you are who you say you are, then prove it!”

  I thought of the stories that had been told in Axyum about the Red Harlequin: He drinks blood. He flies in the sky. He kidnaps infants. I wondered if the same tales were passed among the Orange.

  “You can’t prove anything, Asheva!” Cestia whispered. “We should disappear while we’re still breathing.”

  “Disappear…” I agreed. “Harlequins disappear.” I cast my mind back to the green rite of the Moxia.

  Aloud, I yelled: “Very well! To prove my identity, I shall disappear and reappear right in front of your eyes.”

  “Ah! I am very curious to see that!” said the Orange female that first challenged me.

  “I’ll oblige you on one condition,” I called back. “If I succeed, you must let my companion and I enter your city, unharmed, so that we may speak with you.”

  This resulted in another buzz of discussion. “You far outnumber us. And I swear by the gods that I come as a friend.” I added. This was a solemn oath, not to be taken lightly.

  At last, the Orange leader shouted: “We agree!”

  Without further ado, I dismounted and walked to the bank of the river. I hid behind my horse long enough to grab the pouch of colored powders Failan had given me and began to color my face, my hair, and my robes the color of the bridge.

  When I finished painting my body, I was one with the ground and my surroundings. “Can you see me now?” I shouted.

  I heard Cestia whisper: “…amazing!” I was also gratified to hear a chorus of ‘oohs and aahs’ from the Orange chromes.

  I was sure that the effect from above the walls of Crodya would be even more powerful if I moved, unseen, to another spot, so I slowly made my way from the bridge back to the city gate. With my eyes half closed I could still see the commotion that my camouflage generated. I then began to climb up the wall, using the rough stones to make my way up. While the Orange chromes were still looking for me down by the river bridge, I ‘appeared’ behind them, on top of the turret.

  “Now then, please open the doors so that my friend can enter, too!” I said. I had to work very hard not to laugh at the ridiculous panic I created amongst the sentinels.

  25. The Sisterhood

  The female chrome who took the lead in speaking with me at the wall, now guided Cestia and myself through her city in the direction of the palace. Her name was Nara. She was short and squat, no doubt elderly, but everyone fell back and bowed with deep respect as she passed. She was proud of Crodya and she took pains to let us know and point out its more illustrious sights. I couldn’t tell if I was to be held hostage or subjected to a guided tour.

  “Crodya”, she began, “was founded by a female known as the first Nara. In the beginning, Nara was a member of a tribe that did not know it had the chrome inside. It was she that found out and realized that the females of her tribe had a different color of the males.”

  “Different colors, same story,” I whispered to Cestia as we followed the female Orange chrome.

  “What do you mean?” she said.

  “It’s all abo
ut power,” I murmured. “Every ruler will go to great lengths to justify his right to rule. Including making stories up.”

  “Remember that we need their help,” said Cestia.

  Nara continued her story: “The tribe then divided into Orange and Yellow and battled for control of this territory and once again it was the first Nara that came up with the solution of dividing it in order to keep the peace.”

  First divide, then conquer, I thought, and use peace as a pretext.

  “Crodya still changed hands more times than most chromes cared to remember, until the creation of a tribunal council known as the sisterhood…”

  The Orange, she continued, preserved its jumble of architecture, ancient alleyways, roomy cattle pens ancient almond trees and bustling town square as a reminder of the past, but they pushed their territory forward thanks to their shrewd dealings not only with the Yellow, but also with the Red and the Blue. Their cows roamed free everywhere inside the city and some of these animals were considered sacred. Those had white hides, carefully tattooed with elaborate orange symbols and they were fed a steady diet of almonds. But something was missing…

  There was so much to take in, it took me awhile to notice that I’d attracted quite a crowd. The Orange followed me, giggling and pointing. A few of them made lewd gestures for the benefit of their compatriots, who doubled over in gales of laughter. Their infants would shyly edge forward and touch me, then run away, giggling like mad. At first, I thought all the fuss was because I was a stranger and a Harlequin – one without a mask, no less. But then I realized it was because I was the only male in a city of females.

  Without much ceremony, we were then led inside the domed palace that dominated Crodya. Cestia and I craned our necks to take in the circular copper ceiling above us. Sunlight streamed in through stained glass windows, illuminating a polished floor made from the same red-orange rock I’d seen at the Red’s mountain shrine hideout.

  Our presence aroused much curiosity here, as well. The domed hall was flooded by female Orange chromes of every age, all eager to see the Red Harlequin. They talked in low buzzing voices that reminded me of the star singer bees in Everdia. Truth be told, it was not a good feeling.

  Four chromes stepped forward and the others fell silent as they edged back to make way for them. One was an infant; another a youthful adult. The next one was older and the fourth was our hostess Nara. The younger ones had no feathers on their masks, but the two eldest had several.

  “So, you are the Red Harlequin,” said the one who was more or less my same number of solstices in age. And I wasn’t sure whether it was a question or an affirmation. Behind her mask, her eyes were fixed on me.

  “Indeed I am,” I said.

  “And who are you?” she asked Cestia in an arrogant manner.

  “I am Cestia, daughter of King Quadrio, Princess of Samaris,” She replied. “And I have come to ask…”

  “You hear her, sisters?” the middle-aged Orange chrome interrupted. “She has not even entered our inner sanctum and she’s already making requests!”

  “And in the company of the Red Harlequin, no less!” snickered Nara while turning to the rest of them.

  Boisterous laughter exploded in the cavernous chamber. But it was a nervous laughter, and it echoed back to me in a way that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

  “Let us hear what they have to say!” exclaimed the infant, the youngest of the four, in a squeaky voice. Contrary to what I expected, the Orange swarm fell silent.

  This time, I spoke: “We have come here to warn you, honorable Orange sisters. Surely you know what happened in Samaris. The Black disobeyed the Collective Laws and destroyed the city. Thousands of Red chromes are dead. Nothing will ever be the same. No single nation can stop them unless all nations form a coalition against them.”

  The middle-aged one spoke: “Why should this interest the Red Harlequin? So he can rule our land with his fellow creatures after we fight his war for him?”

  “Perhaps you know the story of how Harlequins came to be the scapegoat outlaws of the territories,” I replied. “When in reality they were the only free chromes, who wished for nothing but peace and prosperity amongst clans. And equality among chromes most of all!”

  “If you want peace, how come you threaten us with your army?” shouted someone.

  “The only army that threatens you is the Black army,” I repeated, looking for the one that had spoken.

  “We are not at war against the Blacks!” said dismissingly Nara. Then she pointed at Cestia. “You are! And you are trying to make us part of your revenge. We will not have any part in it.”

  The second oldest added: “We Orange do not like war. We want to be left alone.”

  “Please!” said Cestia. “If you have at heart your daughters and their future, you must help us.”

  “I hear your cry, Red sister,” she said. “But our Sisterhood has survived endless wars between the other chromes, by staying in our beloved Orange mountains and out of their matters.”

  “This time, it will be different,” replied Cestia.

  “Our answer is still no!” said the oldest Sister while the others nodded in agreement. “We have heard you, now it is time for you to leave Crodya for good.”

  “Wait, Sister!” piped up the second youngest. “It is night. Let them stay until the next sunrise.” I felt as if the Orange sister who spoke was most certainly speaking for me and I must confess I was not altogether displeased by the thought.

  The eldest of the four spoke again: “We have already brought ill fortune to ourselves by letting a male enter our walls.”

  “But he is not an ordinary male! He is a Harlequin!” She then whispered something to her eldest.

  “Humph, we don’t need your pity. We’ll be happy to leave!” snapped Cestia.

  I grabbed her arm and whispered: “Think for a moment! If we leave, we have lost. If we stay, we get a further chance to convince them.”

  “Convince them, how?” she whispered back.

  How I did not yet know, but I’d never let that stop me before. I turned to the one sister who had showed sympathy for me from the very beginning and said: “The Red Princess apologizes for what she said. She and I would be grateful to remain as your guests tonight.”

  “Very well,” said the eldest of the four sisters, probably amused to have seen me put Cestia in her place. “I suppose Shaina is right. The law concerns male chromes, not male Harlequins. Let us prepare a dinner worthy of the Orange sisterhood.”

  Perhaps it was just my imagination, but the buzz seemed to increase in excitement. Cestia and I were conducted to a banquet hall that contained a long table the shape of a horseshoe. One wall was open to a large terrace which overlooked the entire city.

  Since the Orange specialized in raising cattle, the dinner featured a succession of the best meats I ever tasted. I had been seated near the sister who was about my age; the one that the oldest sister had called Shaina. Cestia had been placed at the far end of the table. Both of us were sure this separation was deliberate, but there was nothing we could say or do without seeming to be rude.

  We were served a spicy onion and marrow stew, followed by beef rounds in rosemary with a delectable side dish of baked Yara river yams. A light almond paste in a flaky rolled crust, drowning in thick, sweet cream capped off the meal. The sisters brewed a local wine from peaches that accompanied our repast and it was very deceiving in its strength. Soon, all of our tongues were loosened.

  “You Harlequins certainly have a voracious appetite!” declared Shaina while looking at me from inside her amber mask. The way the eye holes were cut in the mask reminded me of a feline. And because all Chromes ate and drank in public with their masks, Shaina would raise hers slightly just enough to nibble small morsels of the food.

  Yet even while eating, her hazel eyes remained fixed on me.

  “Looking at you eat with your naked face, gives me such a strange…sensation!” She said and grabbed my hand and
placed it on her heart, so I could feel her tremble. Her action was not lost on Cestia.

  “Perhaps you could take off your mask too,” I suggested smiling. “That would give me a strange sensation.”

  What! Oh!” she giggled and the blond curls of her hair danced in a most fetching way, catching light from the candles. “I could never be so daring! The very thought! We never take our masks off in public — not even during the Pygma, or I should say, especially during the Pygma!”

  “What is the Pygma?”

  “Oh! Of course! You couldn’t possibly know…well, it’s…it’s when we Orange come together with the Yellow. It is done to perpetuate our nation with new Orange offspring.”

  “And what about the male newborns?” I asked slightly uneasy.

  “Oh, they are born Yellow of course and are immediately sent to Doryca.”

  “Ah, I see,” I said reassured. I leaned forward. My head was spinning slightly. I gazed deep into those hazel kittenish eyes and said: “Tell me more about the Pygma.”

  She giggled and put her hand near her mouth. “Well, I haven’t, I mean, my mask is not feathered yet…”

  “I see you are enjoying your meal,” said someone behind us. It was Cestia.

  “Yes,” I stammered. “Shaina was explaining some of the uh… rites between the Yellow and Orange.”

  “Yes,” said Shaina. “Not something that would be of interest to a Red sister.”

  “Oh? Since when do you know what interests a Red sister?” said Cestia.

  Sensing danger, I got up and announced: “Well, our journey has been long and our limbs are tired. It is time for us to retire. Thank you for this wonderful feast.” And quickly pushed Cestia away.

  “Don’t push me!” she said.

  “You are ruining everything!” I whispered. “The last thing we want is to get them angry at us!”

  We left the banquet and moved into the outdoor terrace.

  “There is still a chance to win them over!” I said. I was having trouble thinking clearly.

  “Oh yes, I have seen how you want to win them over!”