“It’s okay Cotiso, they already know we are here.” After two long hours, we marched too, on foot, our horses went with the first team. We should meet them at dawn. If there is a new dawn...
“They are following us,” Cotiso whispered.
“How do you feel it?”
“Their minds faded for a while after we started walking. Then they strengthened again.”
“And now?”
“They walk with the same speed as us. I feel only small fluctuations.” I swallowed my thoughts and rushed again in the dark.
“They are many now.” His mouth closed with a clack. You are shaking. What do you expect? He never fought a war. You fainted from a leopard snarl. It was not the snarl. Yeah, it was the stink.
“Tell me when they come closer. Move faster,” I almost shouted. There was no need for my push; they all heard what Cotiso had said. One of them fell; old roots went out from the underground like hardened snakes. We saw nothing, only heard the dull sound of a body hitting the ground. Two others followed. A cry pierced the forest. I smelled fear in the air, and sweat. My fear, their fear. Swords went out from their sheaths. “Stop it,” I shouted. “There is no one here.”
“It was a root,” the first one whispered. “Get off me…” A wolf howled, not far away, and the whispers died.
“I feel people on the left side ... still far ... many.”
“Baragans?”
“I don’t know. They are...” I know, they are far and many.
Some clouds covered the moon in the east, and I cursed them; the darkness was like a bad dream. I wish to have an old good-bad dream now, one I know will end soon. If the people on the left are Scharon’s, everything will end… The trees were no longer so close, and leaving the forest like moving out of a dark tunnel. The rustling almost died, in a night that became calmer.
“Stop!” The cry pierced the darkness, and the next second I bumped into the cadet in front of me. Boulders crashing on stones echoed: clack, clack, for some seconds, then dropping clicks of smaller rocks falling. “There is a precipice.” The voice was calmer now. I measured the stones’ falling time. It’s deep. I cursed the clouds and went in front, touching each cadet like a blind man. “Don’t go further,” the voice spoke again. I finally recognized Tyras's voice.
“Are you able to see the path?” I felt the precarious hold of my feet on the ledge, staring down in the darkness, seeing nothing and hearing nothing. Some drops of water, hitting the stones, overrode my pounding heart. I should have an enhanced sight too. Binoculars are of no use here.
“No path; only that the darkness is deeper down in front.” A tinge of pride raised in his voice.
“Wait for the moon to come out.” I forced myself again to hear the night after a deep breath. Calm down. The forest’s fragrances filled my nostrils. Bark, flowers ... and something else, a faint known odor … smoke. “Do you smell smoke?” I asked. “Yes,” a few voices answered back. “It must come from our first group.” I hope. “Tyras, go and look for pines and spruces. Make torches.”
“I can help,” Xerxis suddenly spoke. “I have good eyes too.” I bet you have... When I glanced back at the ridge we had passed, I saw the moon again. Go behind the clouds when they come.
“They would know we are here,” Cotiso whispered. Xerix and Tyras also stayed; the rest continued marching.
“Perfect! They will follow us and miss the precipice. Some will fall.” Maybe. We left a chain of branches a few inches before the cliff, to hinder and distract them.
“They are Munti,” Cotiso whispered again. They are Baramunti, good that you cannot feel that. Three silhouettes appeared against the moon. Bloody moon, you are still here. “Aarrgh!” The shout killed the silence. The rocks killed the shout. “Yesss!” the cadets whispered. The branches followed, pushed by the black shadows. Five silhouettes were now sitting on the ridge. “Now!” I whispered. The arrows flew with a triple twang. Three of them fell. Only three arrows. I glanced around. Where is Xerix? Arrow after arrow continued to fly until all the shadows disappeared. “Six of them died,” I exaggerated to raise their morale. “Let’s go now.”
“They are no longer after us,” Cotiso broke the silence after five minutes. Where the hell is Xerix?
“Maybe we killed their mind-ranger.” Maybe. “What is in front of us?”
“Our group, close, another one far. It should be our people too.” I hope.
“Twenty people are dead back there,” Xerix whispered, and I almost hit him from surprise. “No one left alive. As I told you, my eyes are good in the darkness.”
“Next time don’t leave without asking permission, Mr. Partner.”
“Well, you are accustomed to ask Maug if I disappear.” You have good ears too. “Mr. Partner.”
“Shadowminds must have some chain of command too. They are not some unruly pirates.” I made the game even.
*
“They are coming.” Maug’s voice was calm, as though he was announcing the servants coming with breakfast. It is too early for breakfast, I sighed. Everything was still entrenched in a mantle of deep indigo darkness under the feeble new moon’s light. How romantic. Those shadows are warriors, not night lovers. What a pity.
“Time to wake up the boys.” My bones cracked in the silent night as I moved closer to the walls, sending shivers down my spine. Breathe! Cadets are not soldiers. They will be after this night. If they survive. Yes, if they survive.
“Wait,” Maug’s hand gripped my elbow, and the strength of his grip made me shiver again. “There is something else there.” If you have a mind reader with you then you have to pay attention to his counsel, and I said nothing, afraid to disturb his search into the unknown world of thought signals – a net of loose fragrances of brain waves carrying different people’s signatures, they have told me.
“Nogi. They have Nogi with them.” A shadow moved slowly behind us. We jumped, almost bumping into Airan. Many nights I will remember that fear, causing me to tremble at the smallest furtive shadow.
“Munti and probably Erins,” he whispered, confirming Maug’s skills. “So this is how the Erins are thinking. The tales tell us about nice people, not about such deep darkness inside their minds. And the Munti were supposed to be our allies.” He was genuinely puzzled, even after the black hats’ conditioning.
“Yes, so it seems,” I confirmed his inaccurate guess, hitting Maug in the back to keep him quiet. “Time to wake up the boys.” He left us alone.
“What is better in a battle?” Maug whispered. “To be or not to be aware of the danger’s nature?” A philosophical bent I never guessed of him raised the question in the night, telling me he had understood the meaning of my elbow in his ribs. “I don’t feel too many Nogi there.” He finally gave me some good news.
“They will figure it out later, when there’s not much time left to think about it,” I tried to comfort myself.
The night is always a riddle, and the ones who better guess its meanings have the upper hand in the battle. I listened to a darkness that was looking at me, amorphous, immense. ‘I declare the Olympic Games open.’ The old memory swung back inside my mind. Not again, this is not Earth. Wrong, this is not a game.
The first Anogi leapt over the lowest part of the wall and his voice died bitterly in the hidden spears waiting for him. He did not touch the ground; his body remained suspended, contorted, impaled on the spears. Vlad the Impaler, I almost smiled. He fought armies ten times stronger than his own, he would not shy away from attacking Travelers. Other two Anogi jumped. A shadow moved behind them, and they fell in silence, the next second. It must be Xerix... “Arrows!” I ordered. The fear pushed the cadets; their hands were like oiled mechanisms. Arrow after arrow, some of them going astray clattering on the rocks, some hitting bodies. Fear is good and fear is bad. Dying cry after dying cry cut into the night. Cry louder, the cadets will enjoy it, they will fear less. The surprise was now over; we lit the torches and Scharon’s killers retreated, leaving behind m
any corpses and others badly wounded, moaning in the dark. “Someone help me,” a voice gasped. With a short hiss, an arrow brought him relief.
“Nooo!” A desperate cry of agony came from our back. Arrows? We hesitated before looking back, and the next moment corpses were spread on the ground. Three soldiers had climbed the walls from the other side, and two Anogi. The two beasts plunged through the youngest and most inexperienced cadets we had, the ones in the last line of defense, hitting them left and right. The small, crushed bodies were simply flying from the impact of their huge axes, and the world sank into chaos. Another wave of warriors came over the walls in the front. Xerix cut two of them even before touching the ground.
“Keep up with the bows!” I encouraged the cadets; no one was still alive from the last line. “We’ll take them.” If we can. One Anogi heard my voice and ran with large jumps, from stone to stone, to catch me, his ax raised twelve feet above the ground; the second one went toward Airan. Airan and me ... you were conditioned... I am dead. Houston’s knives! I threw my first knife with fear; the blade entered just one inch in the thick muscles of his chest, and fell, from a thumb sweep. I am dead. One step, two, I raised my sword. His step lost cadence. He prepares the hit. If I avoid the first… I lowered my position. The ax blade was larger than a belly full of beer. Third step. Then something happened, and the huge body faltered. I jumped one step back; his head hit the ground where I was standing before – the sound of a stone hitting a large barrel. The poison is good. I pushed his head with my boot. It’s dead. The second Anogi changed course, and charged me. I threw my second knife with hate; the blade entered fully in his chest. His body fell, a second later, moving only from its own inertia. Thank you Houston. The Anogi were dead, the men were ours.
It happened that Maug got in front of Scharon, and had the hardest task of all of us. “Die!” Screamed the man in front of me. “Die!” The other two joined his fighting shout. Three of us will die ... for sure. At least… His sword arched down, steel rang on steel. We circled around raining sword blows. The steel spoke again: clang, clang... Clang, clang the other two pairs answered. His last attack was slower; my sword slid and met his flesh on the shoulder. Ah, that one hurts, I smiled. He stepped back, yes; I am not a young cadet. No more easy prey for you. “Feel my mind,” I shouted. “Know who is in front of you.” Another step back and the wall was there, cold and pushing him forward, enough for my sword to slash. I glanced around, Airan’s opponent was wounded too. The cadets’ furtive glances stopped, they were relieved.
Maug deflected Scharon’s powerful blow, and with a speed I had never guessed at, he swung the sword again and hacked off the man’s left arm at the elbow. You are a mix! That’s why Garon side-lined you! Scharon gave only a single pitiful wail of distress, dropped his sword and clutched at the stump to stop the flood of blood. Maug lowered his blade, looking straight into his eyes. The dawn was upon us, full of screams, and fear, and blood. Without a word, Scharon jumped over the low wall between us and his troops, and ran. I was wrong, only two died. Maug threw Scharon's sword over the rear wall, to keep things hidden. Airan came up at the same moment, but he caught only the back of the now fugitive Scharon, so we were able to keep alive the narrative of the Erins' attack in order to avoid civil war. Silence fell upon the old fort; the world was out of chaos again, crows were already circling the sky waiting to feast. A hand lay in the grass, its bloody fingers rooted in the soil from a last spasm.
When the fight ends, you can afford to relax. That is the worse part. Winner or loser you have eyes to see around you. Blood, butchered bodies, bodies pierced by arrows. You stir inside, your heart tightens, the feeling of loss wells up. The smell is the next thing to revive, adding a new dimension of pain. I closed the eyes of the last cadet, blue eyes, unseeing, his body, so small, almost a child, the youngest cadets were all gone, their faces surprised in death. Cold lips never able again to kiss a girl. It’s then when the emptiness swallows you and you mourn inside. Damn you Scharon. No! Damn you Travelers.
The funerals ended, seven fresh graves tightly aligned, mute witnesses of what once were young lads full of life. Now they were heroes, but cold underground heroes are only memories lingering in their relatives’ minds, the only ones feeling the full sadness of the past week.
The one-armed Scharon was out of the military game, as were half of his company, the other half being disbanded, the morbid hand of politics at play. And also a mistake, as we lost track of the rogue soldiers with more costs in the future for us. I should have worried when Garon approved their dismissal.
*
“Deceneus.” Garon’s voice was reluctant and his behavior erratic. “I cannot talk too much; my own mind is betraying me. We are deceived by the ones whom we invested with our trust.” His speech stumbled as though he was fighting an invisible force, keeping him apart from his own thoughts.
“I know what you mean; the black hats took control over your mind. You fight against their control but that comes with pain. Fight! You are proof that they can be fought. Overcome this and guide Scharon in the same way.” I added Scharon’s name on purpose, it would enhance his grief and pain, but he would try even harder to fight, to protect his son. No father can stay idle when his children are in danger.
“I had a feeling you knew about this, even if I don’t know how. There is more to you than meets the eye. Even the Travelers were concerned...” He moaned. “They wanted as much information as they could gather about your whereabouts.” Pain was now visible in his eyes and he moaned again, taking his head between his hands. “It’s hurting. The more I talk about this, the more it hurts. I can no longer endure. Help Scharon! It’s too late for me.” He abruptly left the room, leaving me with a mix of remorse and good feelings. My awful strategy had worked. You missed something. What? ‘It’s too late for me.’
Garon was found dead two days after disappearing without leaving any trace, his body was recovered by a company passing close to the small ravine where the corpse had been thrown. They patrolled the area only by chance. There were no traces of violence apart from some signs of asphyxiation.
Naturally, the King was the most affected. Having had Garon as his closest advisor for more than twenty years, it could not pass unnoticed. The fact that he was able up to a point to win over the conditioning the gray's mischievous devices imposed on him somehow erased all the previous attempts to subvert the Council and Baragan society. In the end he was no longer himself; he was only a transmission relay for the bad will of those evil intelligences. All this made him a post-mortem hero in the eyes of the King, who made an emotional speech, and in a way, he was. He was the clear signal that a strong will can break conditioning. No Council was called for three days.
The stairs squeaked behind me, it was already dark and my heart started to pound. I was ready to jump when a weak voice spoke.
“Please help me!” It was more a whisper than a proper sound, and the owner was still covered by the dark.
“Who are you?”
“Scharon. Please help; I cannot stand too much. They are haunting my mind.”
*
As we spent more and more time in ‘cave’ analyses Houston provided some furniture, two chairs and a table, for a minimum of comfort. They were real things to avoid transportation to each meeting, and this cave was very deep.
“Houston, can you reverse the evil done by the black hats?”
“Let me see, the young rascal follows his father’s steps in overcoming parts of the conditioning. I hope that this will be the only resemblance. Are you sure it is not a trap set for us?”
“Trap, no trap, it is worth the risk. You have the power to avoid the trap.”
“I did not say that I could; I might be able to. Anyway, the masks will fall rather sooner than later. I will try, bring him here.”
“He is strong,” she said after Scharon's departure. “I left his strength unaltered, only lowered the irascible part of him a little. He will become a fine man. In fact,
the process already started some time ago, too bad that it was the hard way. I destroyed the transponder of his bracelet, and set his mind to forget the cave and whatever memory he has from what happened here after arriving at the bridge. Just in case. He will still remember that you helped him but not in what way.”
“Rest in peace, Garon, I kept my promise;” I mumbled, looking at Scharon leaving the cave in a hurry.
“Sometimes you are surprising ... Deceneus.” Houston stared at me with her intense violet eyes. “I am talking about good surprises … a rare thing.” She reverted to the old Houston I knew, but she was smiling.
“You just called me Deceneus for the first time.”
“Sometimes I make mistakes. Do not worry about Batranu; this was a private conversation. Now we go back.”
“What did you find in his mind?” I smiled inwardly, her ‘mistake’ pleased me.
“They were conditioned to answer the call of the communication device. I wonder why the King and all the other doves in the Council were left with a choice. Perhaps they have to be alone with a Traveler to be conditioned that way. It is not so easy to ask for a rendezvous with the King alone in the forest. Garon and company are the victims to their own desire for power.” Desire for power … the same story everywhere. People craving power are mastered by two realities: they no longer consider their fellows as human beings anymore, they become tools used for climbing social hierarchy, on the other hand, others can take advantage of their desire and subvert their minds.
“Garon was probably killed by the grays. Similar things happened to me when I pushed their pride too much.” I involuntarily massaged my neck, the pain was still fresh in my mind. “Have you any traces of his movements?”
“Two calls early that morning, Sarul and Aizac, but no call for Garon. I suppose that he was kidnapped.”
Io Deceneus: Journal of a Time Traveler (The Living Universe) Page 41