by Pedro Urvi
Gedrel smiled. “You have a good memory, my young friend.”
“Who are you really, Gedrel?”
“That’s a difficult question to answer. Not because I want to avoid it, no, not that. You see… I’m different things to many people, very different from what the Gods want me to be: just one more merchant-slave. For some I’m hope, hope for a better world, for a better future for their children. For others I’m only an old dreamer, a poet from some epic tale who’s trying to woo the moon. For almost everybody I’m just a crazy old man with a grandiose dream, a dream of freedom…”
“You certainly know how to talk and not say anything,” Ikai said. He was trying to make the old man stop evading the real question. His reply was not appreciated in the hall, and the men tensed. Gedrel raised his hand to lower the tension.
He pointed at the men around them. “I’ll tell you who I am… for them. I’m the bearer of the seed. The one we have to sow in the hopeless hearts of men so that it can germinate one day and grow strong, looking for the sun, reaching the sky, gaining freedom.”
Ikai stared at the old man. He could guess there was much intelligence and wisdom in him. The pretense of being a crazy old man was just a well-rehearsed performance to fool an unwanted audience. He was beginning to see the old man in a new light.
“That’s a complicated answer…”
“Very well, my young Hunter, let’s talk like the friends we are. I’ll try to explain.”
“I’m not a Hunter any longer, Gedrel, I’m nothing… well, that’s not true, now I’m less than nothing. I’m a Pariah. I’m under sentence of death.”
Gedrel sighed deeply. “Sometimes the extreme difficulty of the path is the very thing which tests our mettle and forces us to do unthinkable actions, to overcome insurmountable obstacles.”
“My only desire is to get my sister back, and yes, the obstacles are gigantic…”
Gedrel’s eyes, deep as the sea, searched Ikai’s soul. “Will you give up, then?” he asked.
Ikai remembered with rending clarity his mother’s desperate plea and the promise he had made her the day he left the village. He shook his head. “I won’t give up, not now, not ever,” he said. “If I must die, so be it, but I won’t give up no matter how big the obstacles may be.”
Gedrel smiled. “Nor will we, no matter how impossible things seem. You see? We’re not so different, you and I.”
Ikai’s eyes noticed a bloodied hand on one of the walls. “What does it mean? Who are you really?”
“We’re the ones who refuse to live a life of slavery. We’re the ones who want their children and their children’s children never to know what it means to be born and die a slave. We’re the ones who are fighting so that one day they can live in freedom, without fear, masters of their own destiny.”
“I’ve heard rumors about you.”
“Not many, I hope. You used to be a Hunter.”
“No, not many, you needn’t worry about that. The Hunters don’t know of your existence, at least for now. The villagers don’t talk to the Hunters.”
“And for a reason,” Liriana put in. “You serve the Regent, and he serves the Eyes-of-the-Gods and their all-powerful Gods.”
Ikai nodded sadly. “I’m not proud of what I was and what I’ve had to do. I’m not sorry either. I had to do what I did for my family.”
Gedrel spread his arms wide, palms up. “Nobody’s judging you, Ikai.”
Ikai swallowed the bitter taste in his throat. “I’ve been judged every single day, with every single glance. I’m used to it. It was Kyra, my sister, who mentioned you.”
“This sister of yours, is she one of ours?” Gedrel asked with interest. He exchanged a quick glance with Liriana.
“I don’t really know. But come to think about it, perhaps someone she loved was. But he died.” The memory of Malte and the odd circumstances of his death came to his mind.
“I see,” Gedrel said, and glanced at Liriana and the others. “Many are the dangers my family and I face. The Enforcers of the Gods pursue us without pause.”
“Confronting the Gods is madness. They’ll kill you all without remorse. You and your families.”
“We know the risks. We’re all in this of our own free will, nobody is forcing us. We’ve been slaves for more than a thousand years, serving despotic gods, suffering every day of our lives until we die, living an existence filled with pain and sorrow, and what’s worse, empty of all hope. And men without hope in their hearts shrivel up and die, like a flower without water. One thousand years, Ikai. One thousand.”
Ikai remembered his mother’s suffering, his sister’s, his own. He understood Gedrel’s ideals, but to revolt was madness. Simply talking about it aloud was madness. They’re fools, they’ll all be killed. He shook his head and swore to himself.
“Have you forgotten who you are? Who we are?” Gedrel asked him in a fatherly tone. “We’re the people of the Sea, you’re a son of the sea—” he pointed to the tattoo on Ikai’s leg, then at the Ring on his left arm— “a Sea the Gods have denied us, shutting us inside the Boundary, denying us everything that’s ours by right. The Gods make us work the soil to produce what they need. We toil day and night to survive, so as not to end up downriver in a funerary boat, or worse still, in a pit. But out there, at the end of this river, is the sea that is denied to us. Our mother. We must go back to her, for she weeps for us with open arms. If you listen to the wind on a summer night, you’ll hear on its wings the crying of our mother for her lost children.”
“Nobody knows what’s beyond the Boundary,” Ikai said.
Gedrel smiled cynically. “That’s not entirely true, young friend. We can’t cross the limits, the Rings won’t let us, but that’s not true for you. You’ve crossed the Boundary, haven’t you, Hunter?”
Ikai shivered. How could the old man know that? The Hunters kept total silence about the missions they had to carry out. This man knew a lot more than it appeared.
“Maybe…”
“And what did you find out there? Outside this cursed circle which imprisons us?”
“Circle?” Ikai asked in surprise.
Liriana and Gedrel exchanged a look of complicity. The young Captain smiled.
“Yes, Ikai, the Boundary is the circumference of a circle. The central point is the great Sacred Monolith in the main square of the capital. The distance from the monolith to any point of the Boundary is equidistant. We’ve measured it.”
Ikai looked at her without understanding, and Liriana noticed this. “Can you read and write?”
“I come from a farmer family,” Ikai said, lowering his head. “It’s forbidden to us,”
“That explains it,” she said with a warm smile. “If you don’t know how to read or write, you won’t know basic geometry either. It’s a circumference because the distance from the Monolith, the center, to any point on the Boundary is always the same. To make it clear to you: the Boundary is a cartwheel and the monolith is the axle.”
Ikai understood. He felt troubled and ashamed. He had been taught to track, fight and kill. But nothing about any other subjects.
“You’ve seen things out there…?” Gedrel hinted, trying to loosen his tongue.
He nodded.
“What did you see? Other men?”
The question caught Ikai by surprise.
“Other men?” he repeated, puzzled. “No, beyond the Boundary there’s jungle and…” He swallowed, remembering his experience. “And… wild beasts. But there aren’t any men.”
“Are you sure of that, young Hunter?” Gedrel insisted, his voice still amiable.
“I am. If there were, those beasts would’ve torn them to pieces. Besides, what other men could there be? We’re the only men…”
Gedrel smiled, a deep, sincere smile. “Man always believes himself the center of the universe. It’s a flaw of our own existence. But if you think about it, there’s nothing to say that outside this one there isn’t another Boundary, with other poor wre
tches like us, enslaved by the Gods in the same way, believing as we do that they’re alone in the universe. The fact that we can’t leave and see what there is beyond the limits doesn’t mean there aren’t any others.”
Ikai considered Gedrel’s words. They made sense. The Priests have always preached that only the Gods, their servants and we people exist. To go against that belief is treason. But Gedrel was right, once again. That left him very confused. Was it possible that there were other people out there? And where were the damned Gods? Many disconcerting questions he had no answers for, and which left him baffled.
Liriana came up to him. “Whatever the case, we must go on. We must free our people from their slavery.”
“The ideal is noble, I grant you that, but you don’t have a chance. The Regent will finish you off, and if not him, it’ll be the Enforcers of the Gods. And may Mother Sea prevent the Gods from coming after you…”
Gedrel dismissed this with a wave of his hand. “The Gods? Have you ever seen one? No, nobody’s ever seen them, nobody remembers the last time a God set foot on our land, assuming they ever did. There’s not even any record of it. Do we even know what they look like? The Priests talk about them all the time, but who’s ever seen them? Nobody. Not ever.”
“We only see the Enforcers of the Gods, not their masters, and it’s always been like that,” Liriana said. “Let’s not forget that.”
“But someone creates and directs those monsters, the Enforcers”
Gedrel nodded. “True. But the Gods don’t worry me in the least right now, there are too few of us for them to notice the breath made by the flutter of our wings of hope, wherever they may be. But that same breath is turning into a wind which is bringing hope to hundreds of our people, and soon there’ll be thousands of them, and some day, not too far off, it will make our whole people rise. And they will rise as one, against the tyranny that’s crushing us.”
Ikai bowed his head. He did not want to argue with the old man. They were doomed and he knew it. They were fools with noble ideals, who would soon be caught and executed.
Gedrel leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I know what you’re thinking, and yes, that day will come. But what we’ve started can’t be stopped now. At this very moment that breath is reaching a poor peasant in his farm, and hope will spring in his heart. The same hope which will reach his family and be carried by the wind to their neighbor’s family. It can’t be stopped, Ikai. It’s started, and only victory or death will be able to stop it now.”
Ikai closed his eyes and wished with all his heart that those hapless people would think it again.
Liriana looked at him coldly. “We don’t expect you to understand. You’re not one of us. And until two days ago you were a Hunter, the enemy.”
“So what did you save me for, then?” he asked, trying to understand how he had got mixed up in that senseless madness.
“I made you a promise,” Gedrel replied with obvious sincerity, “that if one day our paths crossed again and the situation were reversed, I’d remember the favor you did me.”
“And I’m truly grateful. You saved my life when I thought I was lost…”
“… But…?”
“But… why? Why sacrifice the life of a faithful soldier for me? Why risk Liriana’s life? Why reveal her?”
“A promise is a promise,” Gedrel said. His eyes were fixed on Ikai’s.
The young man furrowed his brow. It made no sense. “There’s something else you’re not telling me, Gedrel. You wouldn’t risk your… family just for a debt that came out of a chance encounter.”
“Sometimes chance is nothing of the kind, my young friend, but destiny telling us which path to follow.”
He wants something of me, Ikai thought. Otherwise he wouldn’t have saved me. But what? All I have is my life…
“What does your destiny want of me, Gedrel?” he asked at last.
The old man laughed out loud. “You have a calculating mind, my young friend. You’re right, I do want something of you. Two things, to be precise.”
Ikai folded his arms. “The first…?”
“The first one is easy: information. As you guessed, it’s a question of time before the Regent sends Hunters after us. Time which is running out for us. For years our numbers have been small, our activities few and hidden. We’ve had some run-ins with the Enforcers of the Gods, but they think they’re so powerful and untouchable that in their servile heads the idea of revolt is inconceivable. Their small and limited minds will never manage to join the dots. Which, thank the heavens, has allowed us to go on. But the seed is germinating and the message is spreading among our brothers. In small villages groups of people like this one here gather secretly at nightfall and spread the message. Every day there are more of us, and what has begun cannot be stopped because what feeds it is one of the greatest forces in the universe: hope.”
Ikai shook his head. “Fools…”
Liriana straightened. “We are the sane ones,” she said. “The fool is the one who lives his entire life enslaved and dies without hope, without a soul, because he never even tried to be free for a single day of his miserable life.”
The words were so forceful that as he met those turquoise eyes which were now glaring at him, he was dismayed.
“Well said, my dear child,” Gedrel said with a broad smile. “You see, Ikai, our numbers are beginning to be visible, and rumors have reached the Palace. We’ve managed to keep them quiet, but they’ll soon reach the Regent. Hiding our activities from the incompetent Guards or the vain Enforcers of the Gods is one thing, but hiding from the Hunters is a different matter.”
“Haven’t you managed to infiltrate the Hunters?” Ikai asked. He looked aside at Liriana, who after all had infiltrated the Regent’s Guard.
“Unfortunately it hasn’t been possible. We tried, but without success. The Hunters, as you know very well, are personally recruited by the Master Hunters. It’s a closed society, and has been for hundreds of years. Nobody knows their secrets except the Master Hunters themselves.”
“And they’re loyal to the Regent,” said Ikai.
“More than loyal to the tyrant, I’d say they are well aware of the danger they and their families risk if they oppose the Gods, and they deliberately prefer not to.”
Ikai remembered Sejof’s words. “You’re not wrong there,” he said.
“That’s why I’ve been looking for a long time for a Hunter who could help us…”
“And then along I came…”
“You, who have nothing to lose as you’re already sentenced to die. You can reveal the secrets which are kept so jealously. That’s why when they were going to finish you off, Liriana intervened.”
Ikai looked at the Captain, who gave him a wink, softening it with a smile.
“How long had you been watching me?”
“Since you arrived in the city.”
Ikai sighed. “I can see you have plans and determination, quite apart from your grandiose ideas.”
Gedrel laughed gently.
“What do you want to know? You’ve saved my life, and I owe you.”
Gedrel acknowledged this with a gesture. “How can we hide from the Hunters? It’s said that when they search for someone they always find them, no matter where they hide, even if it’s underground. They’re said to be born man-hunters, that they never miss a trail and that no prey of theirs ever escapes. They say that if they catch you, they kill you. Is that true?”
“It’s true.”
“Is there no possibility of escaping them?” Liriana asked. “In the Guard we’ve heard those same rumors, and it’s true that whenever they set off on a hunt they bring their prey back. I’ve seen it many times. But they surely can’t be infallible. You can’t be” —she came up to Ikai and nudged him in the chest— “infallible.”
Their eyes met. Ikai could read the doubt in hers. He answered the accusation gently. “You have wide knowledge of many things, but you’re ignorant of the secrets of the Hunters
.”
Liriana drew her head back and looked at him curiously.
“The candidates are selected personally by the Master Hunters for their innate qualities, and they’re rigorously trained to be exceptional man-hunters. The secret art of man-hunting is something which has been perfected over more than eight hundred years, turning men like me into exceptional trackers and fighters. I’ve been trained daily, for years, following a strict schedule of skills, until I became what I am. But Liriana is right, that makes me an exceptional bird of prey, but not someone infallible. What makes Hunters infallible is…” — they all looked at Ikai, and silence fell over the room — “is the Falcon Eye.”
Gedrel and Liriana stared hard at him.
“Falcon Eye? What’s that?” Gedrel asked.
“It’s an artifact of the Gods.”
Liriana frowned. “The artifacts of the Gods can only be used by their Enforcers, not by men.”
“That’s not entirely true. The artifacts are usually in the hands of the Eyes-of-the-Gods, but there’s at least one which is used by men. I can assure you of it, because I’ve seen my master use it many times.”
Liriana looked at Gedrel as though seeking support. Gedrel was looking thoughtful. “What you’re telling us is deeply important. Until now we’d always thought the artifacts were out of men’s reach. If they can be used, it gives us a new possibility…”
“We might use the artifacts against them!” Liriana said enthusiastically.
Ikai was not happy about this. Confronting the Gods with their own weapons was at the very least an insane idea. The desperation of the group was beginning to be apparent.
“Tell us about the Falcon Eye,” Gedrel said.
“All right. Every Master Hunter has one. He guards it with his life. It’s an Artifact of Power in the form of a disc. It’s small, crystalline, with a golden pip in its center. It sends out a golden beam of light to indicate the direction of the prey we have to chase. That’s why the Hunters never fail.”