The Simoqin Prophecies

by Samit Basu

She looked shocked. She leapt out of the vines, nature’s chaperons, and ran naked through the forest, shrieking in pain as the trees scratched her skin. Asvin shut his eyes gallantly. When he opened them, but she had gone.

  Aswin cursed wordlessly. Nightingale? Nightingale? Of all the stupid things he could have said or done…

  The sound of hooves thundered through the forest, and Red Pearl was upon him.

  ‘This was a very irresponsible thing to do, Asvin!’ she yelled. ‘You might have been killed! What were you thinking?’

  ‘I apologize for making you worry, Red Pearl, but I was in no danger. I can take care of myself’

  ‘No danger? I cannot think of anyone in this group who is less dangerous than you! Except Amloki, perhaps.’

  ‘That is unfair, Red Pearl. It is time, I think, that you began to trust me,’ said Asvin gruffly.

  ‘Brash young fool!’ thundered Red Pearl. ‘Abandoning us as well.’

  Asvin drew himself up regally. ‘I am a prince of Avranti, Red Pearl, and possibly Simoqin’s hero. I am quite capable of facing the consequences of my own decisions. I would advise you to treat me with respect. And I did not abandon you, Spikes was on guard all the time. And you may doubt his ability to protect you, but I do not.’

  ‘I should not have spoken so harshly,’ said Red Pearl, softly but sternly, ‘and I understand your need for respect, and I do respect you. But you must understand, Asvin, that I am in charge of your safety until you reach Bolvudis, that the decisions you make are likely to affect the whole world if you are indeed Simoqin’s hero, and many people might suffer a horrible fate if you throw your life away rashly. You are more than a prince of Avranti now –you may be the world’s greatest hope. You might feel we are being overprotective–but I assure you, we need to be. The Bleakwood is an evil place. I will speak no more about what happened this night. It is a new day, let us forget the night and journey on.’

  They walked back to the camp in silence.

  Asvin had never felt so unwanted. Gaam looked annoyed, Maya ignored him, trying instead to wake Kirin. Even Fluffy refused to come out of his bag. The only ones who seemed pleased to see him were Amloki and Gaam’s dog Queeen, who welcomed him back with hearty handshakes and enthusiastic licks respectively.

  ‘We should move swiftly,’ said Gaam. ‘I want to reach Bolvudis Strait at dawn tomorrow.’

  They packed swiftly and rode off. Asvin soon forgot about Red Pearl and thought instead of the maiden in the Bleakwood. Who was she? A dryad? A goddess? A lost princess? A part of his heart would always be left in the Bleakwood…

  The sun rose and shone and saw them riding through the forest. It grimaced when it saw Spikes running behind. Then it rose further and began to cast away the darkness in Artaxerxia. As its first rays filtered into the great city of Amurabad, it noticed a white-robed man riding a camel galloping into the city.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The Sultan of Artaxerxia sat up and raised a thin eyebrow. ‘What is it?’ The young woman by his side adjusted her veil.

  ‘I crave your pardon, O Exalted One,’ said the Grand Vizier. ‘But Omar, chief of the Desert Patrol, brought something in the morning that I felt craved immediate attention.’

  ‘Indeed? Fascinating. How are your daughter’s stories coming along?’ said the Sultan. ‘I really must listen to her one day.’

  The Grand Vizier suppressed a shudder. ‘It would be a great honour for her, Exalted One.’

  A casual observer could have been forgiven for wrongly guessing which one of the men in the room was the Sultan. The Vizier was short and plump, while the Sultan was thin, tall, hook-nosed and inscrutable. The Vizier wore an expression of harassed bewilderment that was usually the defining characteristic of good-natured Sultans who were being manipulated and plotted against by their cruel, sinister and scheming Grand Viziers. This particular Vizier, however, looked anything but sinister. Of course, he was extremely cruel and scheming, but that was because he had to be – you couldn’t be Artaxerxia’s Grand Vizier unless you were. And very few people who knew the Vizier’s true nature were alive.

  The Sultan, therefore, by the Shanti-Joddhist principles of cosmic balance, should have had a heart of gold under his cold and extremely sinister exterior.

  But he didn’t.

  Compared to the Sultan, the Vizier was the soul of kindness.

  ‘No doubt you will tell me, at some point of time, what it was that was so important,’ murmured the Sultan.

  ‘This,’ said the Vizier, holding the lamp forward.

  The girl gasped.

  ‘I will send for you later, Rupina,’ said the Sultan. ‘Run along now.’

  The girl almost ran out of the room. Her name wasn’t Rupina, but she didn’t care, she had escaped, she was alive.

  ‘A jinn-lamp,’ said the Vizier. ‘Omar said he saw the jinn, eating an entire horde of desert bandits two days ago. He hid behind a dune and waited until the jinn went back into the lamp, and then, in an admirable display of great personal courage, he crept up to it and stuck a jade bead into the spout. Apparently that prevents it coming out when it wants to – I didn’t know. Omar is quite a fund of information on these things. He also lies frequently.’

  ‘What an energetic young man he is, is he not?’ said the Sultan. ‘Most useful. But I fear his restless spirit will make it difficult for him to achieve his true potential in the army.’

  Find something important for young Omar to do, noted the Grand Vizier. Something nice and rebellious.

  ‘What does this mean, Exalted One?’ he continued. ‘Only yesterday the sorcerers came to me, saying their spells had suddenly become more powerful. And there are rumours that a Zu has been seen in Elaken.’

  ‘And a jinn-lamp suddenly appears. Interesting. Of course I had no idea.’

  As far as the Vizier knew, Omar had entered Amurabad only that morning and had come straight to him. He reproached himself for even being surprised that the Sultan was aware of their meeting.

  ‘Is not your daughter very knowledgeable about jinns and other such things?’ enquired the Sultan, enjoying the little flicker in the Vizier’s eyes.

  ‘No, Exalted One. Her tales are but fairy-tales for children, where jinns are kindly spirits. She would be shocked indeed if she knew the truth about the being that dwells in this lamp. What should I do with it?’

  ‘I do not know,’ said the Sultan, looking bored. ‘We do not even know whether there is a jinn inside it – Omar might simply have had a bit too much to drink. Put it somewhere, take it home, give it to your lovely daughter. I do not care. Do with it as you please.’

  The Vizier nodded. Top security. He would have to keep it in the little underground chamber under the Sultan’s bedchamber. He wondered if it would be safe enough. The Sultan never bothered to look this bored unless the matter was really important.

  ‘And when the Skuan arrives, tell him I will not meet him, since it is suspected that he is hatching plots against our friends in Kol.’

  The Vizier groaned inside his head. He hated the barbarians. But now he knew what to do with Omar…

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Whoever had named the Bleakwood the Bleakwood had got it just right, thought Maya as they raced through a particularly bleak cluster of dead trees. The day had been uneventful, apart from Kirin’s dramatic revelations in the morning.

  It was now evening, and the shadows were lengthening. To the east, they could see the beautiful green hills that marked the beginning of the Centaur Forests, and Red Pearl in particular was dying to return to her own lands. They were drawing closer to the Psomedean Ocean and there was a sea-tang in the fresh breeze that rustled through the Bleakwood. It cheered the travelers, reminding them that Bolvudis Island would be green and beautiful.

  Amloki and Red Pearl had been to Bolvudis before. Amloki had, in fact, accompanied Mantric when he had first come to Bolvudis; they had taken the longer route through the Centaur Forests and it was then that Amloki had fi
rst met Red Pearl. Maya smiled as she remembered Amloki describing their first meeting to her – apparently Red Pearl had thoroughly intimidated both Amloki and her father. But neither Red Pearl nor Amloki had stayed in Bolvudis; they had both returned to Kol immediately.

  They had traveled fast and far in the morning. When they had stopped at a brook to let the horses drink, Kirin had quickly and surreptitiously told Maya what had happened to him. Maya still found the whole thing hard to believe, but she had to admit it made sense to a certain extent. Of course, it would be unwise to trust the book, but if it was telling the truth, this was wonderful news. Narak was the greatest of the ravian warrior-mages of old, and his guidance would be invaluable. After all, he had already defeated Danh-Gem once. And it would also explain why Kirin had been left behind. Of course, it would still not explain Spikes, or why this book had been with the Untranslatables, but the voice had said it would prove its claims. And as for the threat of deadly danger, and the scornful dismissal of humans – well, Narak had always been disdainful of human abilities, unlike Simoqin, who had loved humans and taught them so much magic. And if Danh-Gem rose again, deadly danger would find her and Asvin anyway. It wouldn’t even need to find them, she thought, they would probably seek it out.

  She had told Kirin to take the book to Bolvudis and show it to her father. Kirin had agreed, because that would mean taking it out of the Bleakwood as the voice had wanted. He was still forcing himself not to believe it, though he really wanted to – his heart had leapt in joy when the voice had said it was Narak.

  Maya had even taken a look at the book, but the pages were blank and lifeless in her hands. It would take very powerful magic indeed to create a book such as this. But Narak the Demon-hunter had been very powerful.

  They had had to stop talking about the book because Asvin had fallen back and started to ride with them, and had told them the tale of his own adventure. He had been trying to tell Gaam earlier, but Gaam had, for the first time, been most unenthusiastic – he had told Asvin never to do such a thing again, and that he was probably lucky to be alive. As he told them of the maiden’s amazing beauty and magical voice, Maya was all smiles and encouraging nods, but inside she was very, very annoyed. She knew was not very good at hiding her thoughts from Kirin, and she saw him casting several searching glances at her. Kirin, on the other hand, was sympathy personified. After Asvin had told them the story up to the point where the maiden had run away and he had gallantly not looked, Kirin had asked him to tell them the whole tale again. Asvin, of course, had done so happily, oblivious to the skin-peeling looks Maya kept sending Kirin’s way.

  Red Pearl, galloping in front, suddenly noticed a man hiding in a tall branch, watching them. Bandits. She saw a little circular clearing ahead, bare earth encircled by close-growing tall trees. Perfect for an ambush.

  ‘Halt!’ she cried. She set an arrow to her bow with incredible speed. She pointed it at the tree. ‘Come down, and I will not shoot you,’ she said. There was no response – the bandit was either confident about his hiding-place or a slow thinker. Red Pearl sent an arrow up into the tree. It came down a few seconds later, attached to the leg of the bandit, who hit the ground hard and rolled around, clutching his other leg, which had broken in the fall.

  ‘We have neither time nor the desire to kill you and your comrades,’ said Red Pearl. ‘But we will, if we are attacked.’

  ‘Stand and deliver. Your money or your life. Hand over them beauties, missy,’ said Tlotlot the highwayman, riding, riding out from behind a tree. But there was no snap, no life in his voice. This wasn’t even a highway, and he knew, looking at the travelers, that he and his men would probably not be able to overcome them. But a highwayman had to do what a highwayman had to do.

  ‘Tlotlot, isn’t it?’ said Amloki. ‘I’m Amloki, remember me? We met on the Avranti-Durg road four years ago.’

  Tlotlot looked relieved. It would not have to be a fight to the death after all. He looked at Spikes in the fading light and shuddered. Then he smiled a dashing smile

  ‘Why yes, it’s the khudran! Come out, boys! They’re friends!’ shouted Tlotlot, keeping a wary eye on Red Pearl’s bow, which was casually pointing in his general direction.

  There were half-hearted shouts of ‘Dang, we woulda got ‘em’, ‘Yer lucky stiffs’, and then the bandits emerged from behind the trees around the clearing. Apart from Tlotlot, Maya noted, they were mostly past their prime: thin, gloomy, tired-looking, unwashed ruffians wearing faded leather armour on which they had painted, in red, slogans like ‘StAnd aND dLivER’, ‘ShOOt 2 KIL’, ‘BaD Moma’, and ‘Yer MONIer Yer LIFF’. Maya grinned openly. So these were the famous bandits of southern Bleakwood. She found herself quite drawn to the idea of writing on her clothes, though.

  Tlotlot told his men how Amloki had found him lying wounded on the Avranti-Durg highway, healed him and then given him some money. Tlotlot claimed that he had forced Amloki to do it all, but and his main exclaimed ‘You sure showed him, boss!’ in mildly skeptical voices. There was much merriment and shaking of hands. Most of the bandits forgot their already questionable manners, though, and simply stared at Red Pearl, open-mouthed. One particularly disreputable, scruffy old fellow sidled up to her and said ‘Howdy lovely horse lady,’ in an only slightly shaky intrepid voice. Red Pearl made his day with a little smile. He thought of sliding a friendly arm around her waist, but decided against it. He was bold, but he was not suicidal.

  Kirin was not smiling, though. He had been feeling uneasy for the last half-hour or so – some nameless fear had crept into his mind. Something involving claws and teeth. His ravian senses were alert, searching the trees, the earth and the sky for a sign of danger.

  He looked at the tree where Red Pearl had shot the bandit down. In their excitement, everyone had forgotten about him. The poor man would bleed to death if someone didn’t take care of him.

  Kirin found he was looking at an empty space where the bandit had been a second ago.

  There was a puddle of blood under the tree and a huge, bloody paw-print on the ground beside it.

  Kirin’s ravians reflexes took over. He felt the great, brooding black shape crouch and prepare to spring. He saw, in his mind, the giant black panther-shape flying through the air, straight towards Maya. Then he saw the fiery eyes, glowing like burning coals. As he dived at Maya and grabbed her, knocking her off her horse, he felt the sweet stench of blood and rot on its hot breath, a whisker away from his body.

  At least they all knew now what a nundu was.

  The giant cat leapt right over Maya’s horse, landing on and killing two bandits.

  There were screams and snarls as it whirled and struck. More bodies fell. The travelers and the bandits scattered, like drops of water when a stone splashes into a river.

  It was the most terrifying thing any of them had ever seen. Twice the size of a full-grown lion, the nundu panther snarled over the bodies of six fallen bandits. The rest fled desperately. The horses bolted, carrying Asvin, Gaam and Amloki away. Queeen ran. Leaving Maya and Kirin on the ground, with Spikes standing over them.

  Red Pearl moved in a blur, trying to get far enough to shoot her deadly arrows into the beast’s heart. But the nundu was too quick. One giant paw knocked her weapon out of Red Pearl’s torn hands, another knocked her senseless. The panther snarled and raised its paw, claws shining in the light of the setting sun, to finish her off.

  Then it yelped as Spikes dug all his claws into the beast’s flank. He grabbed it by the tail, to spin it around like a discus. Spikes moved like a hurricane, his stone sinews groaning as he applied all his strength to the panther’s body.

  He could not move it. It was too strong, too heavy even for the mighty pashan. The nundu struck him, hard. Spikes almost broke. His body sagged, his spikes retracted. The beast shook him off and he crashed into a tree, breaking it.

  The nundu turned around to finish Red Pearl, but just then it felt blinding pain.

  It was Asvin. He had leapt o
ff his horse and run back to the battle. Even before the forest shook to the sound of Spikes meeting a tree, Asvin buried his sword to the hilt in the beast’s heart. He would have died a second later as the enraged panther turned on him, snarling and screaming, but before it could strike the hero down to the earth with one deadly stroke a new assailant entered the fray.

  Maya’s arms moved like pistons as she hurled fireball after fireball at the demon cat. The blue missiles sizzled and crackled as they landed in its black velvet coat and scorching flames spread swiftly on the nundu’s back. Fur in flames, bleeding badly, the beast struck blindly but Asvin managed to spring back unscathed.

  The nundu knew it was beaten. It ran. It streaked off, a wailing black blur, after the fleeing bandits. The whole attack had lasted less than two minutes.

  Gaam and Amloki rode back, white-faced, and found Maya casting healing spells on the motionless Red Pearl. Gaam fished out healing herbs from his pack and took over, while Kirin and Maya tended to Spikes.

  After some time, Red Pearl opened her eyes. Amloki tied bandages on her hurt arm swiftly and efficiently. It would be some time before she could wield a bow again. She was still bleeding where the talons had entered her flesh, and badly bruised, but she could walk. She hobbled around for some time, and pronounced herself fit to go, but she was limping, and she almost swooned after getting up. Gaam told her to rest for a while. The screaming of the panther had stopped, and they knew it was either dead or far away, cooling itself in a stream.

  Spikes woke up snarling and angry. He had suffered no damage, except a few broken spikes on his back where he had cracked the tree-trunk. He wanted to go after the nundu, but accepted it graciously enough when he was forbidden to do anything of the sort. He was silent for the rest of the day, glowering angrily and snapping when spoken to. He had never lost a fight before.

  Gaam rode off in search of the other horses.