by Pedro Urvi
“They are not so different from us, father…”
“Yes, they are indeed, and anyone who does not see that is a stain on our House. The Heir of the House of Eret cannot think this way. Slaves are a material good, a coin of exchange, and nothing more than that. So they have been for over a thousand years, and so they will be till the end of time.”
Adamis sighed deeply. How I would like to make my father understand what I saw in Kyra, to have his eyes opened as she opened mine… But he knew the High King would never listen. For him, as for the others, slaves were so many insignificant ants, to use and crush. That was the established order, and thus it would always be.
Laino turned to Notaplo, and the darkness followed him.
“You have always served my House well, Notaplo. You are one of the brightest minds of our whole glorious civilization. I will not blame you for what happened, since you simply followed your Prince’s wishes. But I must admonish you for not stopping Adamis from his reckless foolishness.”
“The slave, my lord, was special… I tested her myself…” Notaplo dared to say, almost in a whisper.
“She might have been ‘special’ for your experiments, for your scientific advances. But I can assure you she was not so for me, and I am life and death, law and judge in my own House.”
“Of course, High King. I beg your clemency and forgiveness for having strayed in my conduct. I allowed myself to be carried away by the hope that it might lead us to an important advance, toward eternal life.”
Hearing this, Laino became thoughtful. “I see… so that is your motivation in helping the Prince. How many times have you been close to a significant advance, old Erudite, and yet achieved nothing?”
Notaplo choked. “Well, you see, achieving new goals is extremely difficult … many times we think … many times we wish…”
“Many,” Laino interrupted him.
The Erudite nodded, ashamed.
“My beloved wife Belai says that my greatest virtue is that I do not let myself be carried away by my emotions, that my decisions are always well-thought–out, so that reason prevails over feeling. I can assure you that today I am finding it very hard. I would like nothing more than to make you suffer for the stupid, irreparable act you have committed.” He sighed heavily, and closed his eyes. For a long moment time seemed to stop, as if it was waiting for the High King to return from his deep thoughts. All watched in silence, motionless.
At last he opened his eyes, and time resumed its course. “I have meditated, and I shall honor that which I am, intelligence over emotion.” His gray eyes, now dulled, turned to Notaplo. “For service to me and to my House, and for your dedication and effort, I shall forget your part in this incident. But if you ever do anything remotely like it again, I shall order your public execution. Is that clear?”
“Yes, my lord. Thank you, my High King.”
Laino turned to Adamis and pointed at him with an accusing finger.
“For the dishonor caused, I forbid you to have contact with the slaves again. You will behave like a worthy Royal Prince and stay away from them at all times. This is a Royal order. If you disobey it I will take your life myself. I shall use the King’s Slayer on you, put that dagger through your heart.” The threat of death was so real that the darkness generated by the Power of the High King arched over Adamis as if it sought to devour him.
Hurt, he bowed his head and knelt. “I will do my King’s bidding.”
“And now I shall tell you the punishment the court has charged me with applying to you.” Adamis readied himself for what he knew would be a harsh punishment, for his father had to save face before the other High Kings. “I, Laino, High King of the House of Eret, sentence you, Adamis, Prince Heir of my House, to exile for an indefinite period of time. You will go to the Secret Temple of Eret on the continent, supervise its construction and report on progress. You will take over your cousin Atasos’ functions there.”
The Queen let out a muffled cry and her face contracted. “Not exile…”
Adamis received the sentence as if he had been immersed head first in an icy lake. But he bit his lip and kept silent.
“That is my sentence. Let me hear you will obey.”
Adamis raised his eyes calmly to his father. “I accept it, and will comply.”
Chapter 13
Rapt, Liriana contemplated the ancient oak tree in the moonlight. The silver rays of Girlai, Father Moon, filtered between dark clouds which foretold the storm that was about to break. The tree was monumental, with sturdy branches reaching grandly towards the sky, fearless of the elements, with a deep-rooted integrity. In the center of the clearing the solitary tree looked like a gigantic wooden god.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” an old voice said behind her.
“It gives out strength,” she said without taking her eyes off the tree “It won’t let anybody or anything subdue it. It gives me a feeling of safety… I can’t explain it… but I feel it.”
“That’s right, my child. For more than a thousand years it’s stood here majestically, against men, Gods, heavens and storms, and it’s still here: robust, magnificent, noble, unbreakable.”
“More than a thousand years?” Liriana turned to seek Gedrel’s benevolent eyes in the darkness.
“Yes, my child, and it will still be here when I am gone, when you are gone, for there’s still a great deal of life left for it to enjoy. It’s the king of this beautiful grove, its protective spirit watches over it, although it suffers in silence, for part of its domains, of its children and brothers, are on the other side of the Boundary, and that forced, unnatural separation makes its soul weep.”
Liriana’s gaze lingered on Gedrel, the man she loved as a father. She studied his parchment face, his hair and beard as white as snow, and his leathery body which under his woolen robe was no more than skin and bone. She thanked Oxatsi, Mother Sea, for having blessed them with that good, wise man. She prayed that under her protection he might be kept away from the claws of the Gods and their Enforcers.
He put his open arms around the great tree. “This place, this powerful oak, represents our spirit, our soul. As long as it stands there will be hope for our people.”
Liriana caught the fresh scent of the forest mixed with the damp touch of the rain. She searched in the distance, trying to make out the barrier of the Gods, which rose no more than a hundred paces away from them and divided the forest in two. She was beginning to understand why Gedrel had chosen this place for this secret, profoundly important meeting. At first she had thought it was because the oak-wood was a hard place to reach, at the outer limits of the Sixth County and at the furthest point from the capital. It was a good place for a secret meeting: hidden, uninhabited, away from intrusive eyes. There was not a soul for several days’ journey around. But now, listening to her master and leader, she understood that it was something more, a spiritual place. She glanced around the oaks which surrounded them where the clearing ended, and the darkness behind them.
“Will they come?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. She was worried.
“We’ll soon find out,” Gedrel said, and winked at her.
“For the good of our people I hope their hearts will choose bravely.”
“So do I, child, so do I.”
A branch snapped under a boot. Someone was coming from the south. Startled, Liriana turned quickly, her hand at her sword. Between the trees there appeared a figure in dark robes, with a scarf covering mouth and nose, carrying something on his back. Liriana was preparing to attack when her heart began to beat like a drum. She had recognized his walk. By Oxatsi! she muttered as she recognized Maruk,
“How many times have I told you to give people warning?” she snapped, waving her arms furiously. “You’ll end up with an arrow in your stomach one of these days, and the worst thing is it’ll be one of our own!”
“Sorry, Liri,” Maruk said apologetically. “You know I don’t really take to all this military stuff of yours.” He shrugged as if it
were nothing serious and came forward, carrying a heavy leather bag.
Liriana was about to reply, but when she saw him in front of her, tall, slim, strong-armed, with those seductive green eyes and the dark hair she so much liked to tangle, she could not. The words died in her mouth. Instead she turned to Gedrel.
“Why does he have to be here? He barely knows how to wield a weapon. It’s a risk. He can’t defend himself, and he’s putting us all in danger.”
“But he can wield his blacksmith’s hammer. And he can forge what no other Senoca can.” Gedrel pointed at his Ring. “That’s why he’s here. Maruk’s very important for us. He mustn’t fight, it’s true, he must survive, because he’s an open door to freedom. And more important, he symbolizes hope. That’s why he must be introduced to the others today, and he must show them there’s a way to salvation.”
Liriana shook her head in protest. She understood Gedrel’s motives and Maruk’s importance to the cause, but she did not want anything to happen to him. And she could not go on protecting him forever. That certainty gnawed at her insides.
Maruk raised his brows at each of them in turn. “I’ll go where he wants me to, and that’s that.”
Gedrel smiled. “Very well said, my young smith.”
Maruk raised Liriana’s hand to his lips and kissed the tips of her fingers. “Don’t worry, my Captain. I’m always safe with you, and there’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
“You’re impossible,” she said as she pulled her hand free. “If the Gods catch you again, I’ll let you rot in their catacombs.”
Maruk picked up the bag and kept walking, leaving Liriana behind.
“No you won’t, and that’s what really worries me.”
He walked on to the great oak, where a hole the size of a small shield had been dug. Around it, at a distance of several paces, seven blocks of wood had been placed as seats. Maruk knelt in front of the hole and put his hand inside. He checked it thoroughly, then opened his bag and tipped the contents into the hole. On his hand he put a coarse glove he had been carrying under his shirt, then from a small pouch at his belt he took out a silvery powder and spread it around the hole. He closed the pouch and hung it from his belt, and Liriana realized it was not the one he usually wore but a much wider one, like a sash of reinforced leather. From it hung more than a dozen pouches of different sizes, together with several metal tubes. He’s brought all his ingredients. What’s he going to do? she wondered as she watched him working. He spent a long time over his preparations, mixing and pouring the contents of the pouches and tubes.
“Someday you’ll have to explain what all that’s for and what you’re doing.”
Maruk turned to her and smiled. “I’ll show you my secrets if you show me yours.”
Liriana rolled her eyes and muttered something rude.
Finally Maruk announced that he had finished. “Ready, Gedrel. Whenever you want.”
The old man looked up at the half-hidden moon between the clouds. “It’s almost time,” he said, and glanced at Liriana out of the corner of his eye.
“All right, but first let’s make sure we’re alone. Better safe than sorry.” She put her hands to her mouth and very carefully imitated the hoot of a barn owl. A moment later she repeated the call.
At first only the night breeze caressing the leaves of the oak broke the silence. Then a moment later a similar hoot came from the south, followed by another from the north. Liriana waited, her ears alert for the sounds she was expecting. The next call came from the east, then a shriller one from the west. She counted to thirty in her head and replied with a final, longer hoot.
“All the watchmen have reported,” she said to Gedrel. “The forest’s safe.”
“What would I do without you,” he said, and smiled. “Let’s begin then. May Mother Oxatsi protect us tonight.”
Maruk nodded and set fire to the piece of wood in his gloved hand. He threw it inside the hole he had been working on, stepped back and gestured to the other two to do the same. Suddenly a dazzlingly intense flare rose almost as high as the great oak behind it. Liriana threw her head back in surprise and covered her eyes. The flare, like a creature of fire savoring the night, remained upright for a long moment, filling the clearing with light and scorching heat. Finally it shrank until it was no more than a foot above the hole, producing an extraordinary heat.
Gedrel sat down on the wood block in the middle, with the great oak at his back. “Let’s wait, then. The fire will lead them to us.”
Liriana stood behind the old man, looking through the forest shadows toward the edge of the clearing, with her hand on the pommel of her sword. Maruk sprinkled something powdery on the fire so that it turned blue, then came to stand beside her. He gave her a mysterious smile.
Time went by, and she began to feel restless. They were risking too much by being there. If anything happened to Gedrel or Maruk, she would never forgive herself. Everything’ll be fine, she told herself, trying to calm the storm in her stomach. Trust Gedrel, he knows what he’s doing. Moving shadows made her eyes turn towards the east of the open area. The sound of footsteps reached her ears, and she could not help drawing her sword.
“Easy…” Gedrel said.
Three men appeared in the clearing from the forest. They stopped for a moment and watched the group by the fire from a distance. The leading man was as big as a mountain. Liriana swallowed. If she had to fight him, she would be in trouble. The other two were not so big, but they were solidly-built. The three had axes in their hands; the one the giant carried was enormous and two-headed. They came slowly towards the fire and stopped. She could see their faces now. These men did not belong to the Guard, and neither were they Hunters. They were slaves. She looked at the giant’s Ring: he was a woodcutter.
Gedrel greeted him with a nod. “Welcome, Rutus of the Third County. I knew you’d be the first to arrive. I see you brought your cousins Usom and Turos.”
The giant scratched his thick black beard under eyes of the same color. “You called and I came, master.”
“I’m very pleased you answered my call,” said Gedrel, and stood up. He hugged the woodsman, then his companions, and introduced Liriana and Maruk to the group.
Gedrel turned to the couple. “Rutus and his cousins are here to represent the Third County. We represent the capital. Please take a seat.” Rutus sat down on one of the wood blocks, while his cousins stood behind him.
Rutus laid the huge axe across his legs and came straight to the point. “So what’s the plan?”
Gedrel smiled. “You’re always straightforward, Rutus. Let’s wait for the others. We have a lot to discuss, and it’s better if they can all be present.”
Soon four men appeared from the south of the forest and came slowly towards them. From their appearance and their Rings, Liriana identified them as miners. They came as representatives of the Fourth County, where the great iron and coal mines of the region’s mountain ranges provided the livelihood for most families. Gedrel welcomed them, hugging their leader Mitas warmly. He was a short, broad-shouldered man who looked as strong as an ox. Soon after, three men came from the west. Liriana had no trouble recognizing them by the smell of cattle and pigs which came before them. They were herders from the First County and they smelled frankly awful. She wished the storm would break to give them a wash, particularly Ganat their leader, who was as tall and thin as he was ill-smelling.
Gradually the rest of the guests of the secret meeting arrived. With Camptos, of the Sixth County, came three men. Seeing them, Liriana thought of Kyra and Ikai, who were farmers from the same county, as were most people in the poorest of the six Senoca regions. As she remembered this, Ikai’s image came to her mind, and her stomach lurched. She felt a tremendous void as she remembered the Hunter, his courage and determination, his cool head in the face of danger, his strange eyes, the night they had shared… A turmoil of contradictory feelings assailed her, feelings she could neither control or quell. Unconsciously she looked at Maruk, as i
f to check that he had not noticed what she was feeling, when really it would have been impossible for him to have noticed. She shook her head in annoyance. Leave me alone, Ikai, I’ve got enough problems as it is. But she was aware that she could never get rid of those feelings, no matter how hard she tried; they were engraved in fire in her heart. There are things the heart never forgets, however much you want it to.
Camptos’ group was followed by Costan’s, of the Fifth County, also peasants from another of the poorest areas. Finally came Pasmal of the Second County, where there were more goatherds and shepherds than farmers.
Gedrel greeted everyone fondly as if they were members of his own family, which —Liriana realized— was practically true as far as the old man was concerned. He looked at each one as though weighing up an earlier decision, then nodded and cleared his throat.
“I see you here with me tonight, and I’m deeply proud. The pride of a Senoca father towards children who honor him. I’m aware it hasn’t been easy to answer my call, that you’ve had to cover your trail very carefully to get to this oak wood. I know you’re risking your lives, that if the Guard or the Enforcers were to discover you they’d kill you on the spot. That’s why the first thing I’m going to do tonight is thank you, my children, for the sacrifice you’re making, and for the risk you’re taking for the good of all the Senoca.”
Mitas replied at once: “You’ve summoned us, master, and we’ve come. The danger’s always with us, right from the day we decided to follow you and spread the message, each in our own County. We live with the fear, but it reminds us that we’re alive, that we’re fighting for the freedom which will come one day. And if we must die, we’ll die gladly.” As he spoke, he mopped his forehead in an attempt to wipe off the soot and mineral crystals stuck in the pores of his skin, which would never come off.
“Well said,” grunted Rutus, slapping his axe with his huge hands. “I’m not much good with words, but I feel the same way.”