by Pedro Urvi
When they finished, Tulmis left his clay bowl on the floor and said:
“Two strange stories have come to my ears.”
Liriana arched an eyebrow and waited for the explanation.
“On the one hand they whisper,” he said, looking ahead into the chamber full of slaves, “that you were a Captain of the Guard in the capital, no less. That’s an important post… I don’t usually have workers belonging to the higher ranks of the Guard…”
“There are always exceptions…”
“Yes, that’s true, but for some particular reason.”
Liriana kept silent. She was not going to give him any explanation.
“On the other hand, there’s the rumor that you belong to a certain group… one with subversive ideas… and very dangerous ones… and that you’re very well-connected…”
Her gaze searched the hall, trying to find a familiar face among the slaves, someone who might know of her relationship with Gedrel. But she did not recognize anybody. They were all Senoca, that she already knew; the damned Eyes were efficient even in that. Each Foreman had a crew of slaves of his own kind. They only mixed races when the casualties in one group were high and they needed to replace laborers. No, she could not recognize any of them. Most were peasants from the Fourth, Fifth and Sixth Counties: the poorest. They had never set foot in the capital. All they knew about was crops and suffering.
“The rumors aren’t even close to being half-truths.”
Tulmis gave her a crooked smile. “In your case it might be to your advantage…”
“I’m listening.”
“You see… this old Foreman isn’t going to survive long. I know that, just as I’m sure the sun comes out every morning over this wretched city.”
“Nobody here’s going to live long.”
Tulmis shrugged. “It’s the law of the Gods, and here there’s no hope for men. Each man struggles to go on living another day. But the suffering is hard and long. Many give up, like Holstes today.”
Liriana sighed and shook her head. “What’s the advantage for me if the rumors are true?”
“Because this old man will die here, but he has family in the capital.”
“I see… you want something from my contacts…”
“Exactly.”
“Why should I help you? You’re already in my debt.”
“Yes, but you see, I’m going to pay my debt now, and as soon as I do you’ll ask me for something else, and that’s where you’re supposed friends might come in handy.”
“We’ll see…”
“You asked me to find out where the slave Maruk is and how to get to him. Well, your fiancé is in the First Ring, in the House of Eret. It’s ruled by the God-Prince Adamis.”
“Where exactly inside the First Ring? The rings are gigantic, like a whole County.”
“He’s in the twelfth catacomb. He belongs to Foreman Sostos’ crew.”
“How am I going to find it? From the surface the catacombs aren’t visible.”
Tulmis rubbed his legs. “It’s just under the statue of a huge lion, east of the Royal Palace. It’s easy to find.”
“How can I get there?”
“The only way is at night, by boat. If you manage to get close enough without being discovered by any patrol, you can do the last stage swimming, although I recommend you do it underwater… Anyway it’s crazy to even think about, let alone try it.”
“I have no choice. I have to do it.”
“There’s always a choice, young Captain. In any case, that’s the information you asked me for, and I got it for you. My debt’s paid.”
She looked at him thoughtfully. The gleam in Tulmis’ eyes told her there was something else.
“What are you hiding?”
“Hiding? Nothing at all. I simply think you’ve forgotten one small detail.” He smiled broadly.
“What detail?”
He pointed to the great metal door, firmly locked from the outside. “You’ll never get out of here.”
“And that information is included in how to get to Maruk?” She raised her voice in protest.
“Shhhh. No, it isn’t,” said Tulmis, and folded his arms.
Liriana was so furious she wanted to strangle him, but he was surrounded by his helpers, so it was not a good idea to try and use force. She swallowed hard and thought.
“Here’s where the new deal comes in…”
Tulmis nodded with a smile of triumph. “Exactly.”
“So what do you want?”
“Those friends of yours. I understand they take care of their own, they protect them.”
“Yes. We look after our own. If anything happens to one of us, we take care his family doesn’t succumb under the weight of the tribute, or a bad harvest.”
Tulmis nodded slowly. “I have a daughter, Aina. She’s a craftswoman, a very good one. She works as a goldsmith. She must be only a couple of years older than you are. She’s a good girl, with a kind soul, not like her father. If I help you get out of here and get to Maruk, I’m asking in exchange that you care for her as if she was one of your own, as if I was one of your own.”
She half-closed her eyes and tried to assess the Foreman. She had not been expecting that of him. She had put him down as a mean, selfish man, and she was surprised. They were silent for a moment. At last she gave a deep sigh.
“All right. I accept the deal.”
He offered her his hand. She took it.
“How do you know I’ll keep my promise?”
Tulmis’ halting laughter echoed against the walls.
“I don’t think you’ll survive. Nobody’s ever managed to escape from here, and many have tried, believe me. Some thought they were very clever and had great plans for escaping. Others simply lost their head one day and tried without giving it any thought. The result’s always the same. They all die. They all end up in the Ship of the Dead. But for me this situation works to my advantage. If you die, I lose nothing. If you survive, you’ll keep your part of the deal because you’re a person of honor, and that’ll be your undoing. In either case, I win.”
Seeing the triumphant smile on the Foreman’s face she was pierced by a terrible cold, as if an icy sword had stabbed her.
The sun had shone all day over the Eternal City, bathing it with its brightness, highlighting the unmatched beauty of the divine metropolis. But now the sunset was close at hand, and both the golden star and the Gods were beginning to withdraw to their pleasant dwellings.
Ikai had stayed hidden for most of the day, under one of the less busy piers, in the eastern part of the First Ring. He had arrived the night before, dodging several patrols and guided by the Falcon Eye. The fact that he had not been discovered was a sheer miracle. Luck had certainly been on his side. With nothing but his abilities as a Hunter, he should never have got as far as this.
Don’t think like that, don’t give up, you’re a step away from Kyra, come on! he said to encourage himself, banishing the doubts from his mind.
He crawled through a garden until he reached a clearing surrounded by great oaks which formed a circle. He glanced to either side and saw several Gods moving away to the north, accompanied by their escorts. They had their backs to him. Taking the greatest care not to be seen and not to make any sound, he climbed one of the trees. Luckily most of the Custodians and Eyes-of-the-Gods were where the groups of slaves worked, or guarding the mansions and palaces of the Gods. The less frequented areas were not much watched, and thanks to Oxatsi, there were many of them.
In the middle of the clearing was a square with several stalls full of goods. It looked like a small market. He climbed to the top of the tree and watched those Gods who were still shopping.
Unbelievable. I have no other words to describe these beings. They exist, they’re as real as we are. I’d always hoped they weren’t, that it would all turn out to be a great lie. But here they are, golden, divine, powerful: Gods. He shook his head and felt a pang of despair, but refused to give in to i
t.
He knew it was risky to go out into the open before nightfall. But he could not help it, he had to see them by the light of day. He had watched them at night a couple of times, but because of the distance and gloom it had been hard to grasp what they were really like.
Father always said “Know your friends well, but your enemies even better.” A great truth. I need to understand what I’m up against. What are these Gods? What are their weak points? If they have any, that is…
Taking a quick look, he saw a monolith behind two Custodians in the center of the square. At once he glanced fearfully at his Ring. Luckily it seemed he was far enough away to avoid triggering the alarm. A drop of sweat rolled down his temple. He could go no further or else he would be discovered, so he watched them from above. There were no Custodians or Gods close by and it was getting darker; he felt relatively safe.
It’s amazing the risks you get used to, he said to himself, and smiled bitterly.
From the distance he studied the slender golden beings in their rich attires. Some were buying alone, others were accompanied by an entourage and armed guards. He guessed the latter must be powerful Lords. He also saw a couple of enormous and muscular Gods who must be warriors. From their golden heads a long braid hung down their backs. He shivered to think what would happen to him if one of those mammoths discovered him. None of them was showing off his Power, and he knew they had it, which surprised him. If they were Gods, why did they behave like mere men? It puzzled him. He went on watching them while they made their purchases and apparently chatted, although the only sound that reached his ears was the singing of birds and the touch of the breeze on the branches of the trees.
A God crossing the square caught his attention. He was notably slender, and his poise radiated power. As he crossed the square the other Gods showed their respect with elaborate bows. He must be someone important here. He focused on the being’s features. Beside this God came another, much more solidly built, with a long braid hanging from his clean-shaven head. His bodyguard, no doubt. They were followed by a slave girl, her head bowed.
The slave raised her head. Ikai recognized her. The shock was such that his heart nearly jumped out of his mouth.
Kyra!!!!
With the shock he began to slide to one side. He was going to fall.
Kyra! Kyra! his mind shouted as he slipped. At the last moment he managed to grab a branch with legs and hands and found himself hanging upside down. He looked at her again and again as she crossed the plaza, unable to believe his eyes. He climbed up again and fixed his gaze on her. There was no doubt about it, it was her. He stretched out his hand, as if he were trying to reach her.
He shaped her name and had to cover his mouth with his hand. “Kyra!”
It’s her! It’s Kyra! She’s alive! She’s well! An overwhelming joy exploded inside him, as if his heart were an erupting volcano. Tears of joy rolled down his dirty cheeks.
She’s alive and well.
He wanted to call out to her, run to her and hug her. After so long, after all that ordeal, he had found her at last. But his rational mind prevented him. One shout and he would be a dead man. And that would not help Kyra in the least.
The retinue was about to finish crossing the plaza towards the west. He needed her to know he was there, that he had come to rescue her. He needed to let her know.
How can I attract her attention? How can I make her look my way and see me?
He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking. And then an idea came to his mind. Something their father Siul had taught them when they were little children, something Kyra would remember. He put his hand to his face and made a cone over his mouth and nose. With movements he had learnt in childhood, he began to imitate the sound of a barn owl. The first time it had no effect; she just kept on walking, moving further away from him. He tried again. Maybe he was too far away and she could not hear him, but if the hoot was too loud he might alert the two Custodians. He decided to risk it. His hooting sounded almost like a cackle.
Kyra turned.
Ikai stared at her, filled with hope. He stretched out his neck, revealing his head and face above the leaves.
Kyra peered in his direction.
Up here, little sister! Here! Look here! Kyra! He put his hands to his mouth to hoot again.
But the God-Warrior came to Kyra’s side and looked in his direction. His heart froze. Fearing discovery, he ducked. Kyra stopped looking, turned around and went on walking after the other God. The God-Warrior kept looking in his direction a moment longer. Then he too turned and joined her. They disappeared through the upper part of the square.
She didn’t see me! Noooooo! I can’t believe she didn’t see me! So close, we were so close! Kyra! A bitter sense of failure and despair gnawed at him.
“So close…” he muttered through his teeth, powerless. Two Gods had his sister… Downcast, he hid among the innermost branches. Then he remembered Siul’s determined face and Solma’s kind smile, their dear parents, and strength returned to his heart, carried by the invisible winds of fraternal love. He would not let anything scare him. If he had to face two Gods, he would do it without blinking.
I can’t let them take her away!
He began to climb down the tree, his heart beating like a war drum. He had to rescue his sister. He jumped down from the oak and took a quick look towards where Kyra had disappeared. He was on the point of moving when he saw a patrol coming in his direction.
Damn!
He leaned against the rugged bark of the oak trunk and went into hiding.
By Girlai, Father Moon! I won’t be able to get to her!
Silently he climbed up the tree again. He would wait for his ally the night. And when it arrived, he would find out where they had taken her.
Liriana was waiting in line for the daily count. A hard day of slave-work, but it was finished now, since night was falling. She was the last in line.
“Today it’s a cold meal for us…” moaned Lestos, on her left.
She shrugged.
The Oppressor went up to Tulmis with his whip stretched out.
“Count, Slave-Foreman,” he ordered with a hiss.
Tulmis began the count of the day aloud, as he did every evening. He came to the last line.
“280, 281, 282…” —and he collapsed.
They all stood still, staring at the old Foreman. It looked as though he was dead.
The Oppressor’s whip cracked. “Get up, you slave scum!”
Tulmis received the lash on his back and shivered with pain on the ground.
“Rise and keep counting, or else I’ll cut your throat!” The whip lashed him again.
The Foreman rose slowly. His face was lined with pain, his movements clumsy and feeble. With a great deal of effort he managed to stand, but his legs bent and for a moment it looked as if he were going to fall again. Somehow he managed to keep his balance, and his gaunt body straightened. He took two unsteady steps and returned to his post.
The Oppressor unsheathed his machete.
Tulmis raised his head, blinked hard and took a deep breath.
He cleared his throat. “…284, 285, 286,” he went on.
The Oppressor looked toward the last line.
“…297, 298 and 299,” Tulmis finished, and bent double from the effort.
The Oppressor looked at him for a moment. He put away his machete.
“Leave!” he ordered.
Tulmis straightened up with considerable effort and raised his arm. He gave the signal. The first line left toward the underground levels. The second followed immediately, then the rest. Lestos looked behind him as they entered the catacombs, expecting to find Liriana at the end, but saw only his own shadow.
Tulmis went in after a moment. The door closed behind him.
A smile of deep satisfaction formed on his face.
26
Kyra shivered with cold. She sat up in her bed in the prison-room and threw a small blanket the maids had left her over her feet
. She pulled the soft linen sheets up to her chin. But a chill ran through her as if someone had passed a sliver of ice down her back. She began to shiver in earnest.
What’s wrong with me? Why am I shivering?
But there was something else, it was not just cold, she felt weak… and she never felt weak. This scared her. She had always been able to count on her physical strength, but most of all on the strength of her spirit, even in the worst situations. She remembered when the Enforcers had dragged her father away and the impotence and guilt she felt, all for not having controlled her tongue. If she had kept quiet… everything would be different now… But she had not, and Siul had paid the consequences. Her eyes filled with tears at the painful memory. She had to be strong, get rid of those painful thoughts. Her strength must not fail her now that she needed it so badly.
She felt a sudden onset of dizziness and nausea.
I’m not well… I think… I’m sick. She touched her forehead, she was burning. She felt pain in the palm of her hand and turned it over. The cut she had made with Notaplo’s dagger was swollen and was a nasty, yellowish color. It’s infected. She immediately thought of Idana. She would know what to do, she would heal her with her knowledge and one of her balms or potions. But Idana was not with her, they were keeping her in the Fifth Ring, if she was still alive. Of course she was alive! She had to be! Her weakness was affecting her reason.
She looked out of the barred window. It was the small hours of the morning, and Father Moon was already past his waxing quarter and only a few days short of full. With an effort she got out of bed and dressed. She went to the door and tried to open it. It was impossible, it was firmly locked.
She began to bang it with her fists. “Open the door!” she shouted.
For a moment nothing happened. She breathed deeply to gather her strength, then banged again. Suddenly the door opened abruptly. She was left with her arm raised before two Custodians.