Necromancer’s Sorrow: (Series Finale)

by Pablo Andrés Wunderlich Padilla

  “So all this time you’ve been carrying the Dagger of Stern, ever since you became Ehréledán and moved to a village called Nabas. Who says there are no such things as coincidences? Someone must have left the dagger there, knowing that you’d get hold of it one day.”

  Mérdmerén remembered how the woman who had sold him the dagger had insisted that he buy it. It was one of Nordost’s scales! Mérdmerén told the Baron everything connected with the magic of the dagger and how Mégalath had insisted that he should bury it in his flesh to activate his arcane magic.

  “The Dagger of Stern… What a wonder, Mérdmerén. I’ll send a couple of thieves to Nabas to find out if the woman who sold you the dagger is still around. I’d like to know where she is, where she’s from and whether she has any idea what she was doing when she sold you the thing.”

  The Baron took a deep breath as if gathering his thoughts together.

  “So you’re leaving us, then, King of Mandrake. Adventures don’t seem to want to leave you alone. All I want is for you to come back in time. Perhaps Mórgomiel won’t be able to destroy this world, but he can certainly wipe all life off it and leave it as an inhospitable rock. What I’m most afraid of is that Mórgomiel is annoyed, and who knows what he’s capable of doing to get even?”

  “I hope to be back by then,” Mérdmerén said. “You need to find a way of telling the Interworld Committee to get a move on. If Mórgomiel decides to mobilize his troops as soon as he can, we’re finished.”

  “I’ll get in touch with Sokomonoko. With her powers of foresight, she might have some way of helping us. Also, we need to prepare for the arrival of the second legion from the next planet.”

  “By the way,” Mérdmerén asked. “Have you managed to replicate the Tower of Lis yet?” At the round table, there was only one candle in the center. This time there was no food or drink.

  “Something much better,” the Baron said. Mérdmerén could sense his smile. “We’ve managed to replicate the magical object and also reduce it in size. Unfortunately, we’ve only got one of them. We call it the Staff of Lis because of its shape.” The Baron left a moment of silence to change the subject. “The attack on the general is another thing that worries me. Mórgomiel’s assassins are everywhere.”

  “Do you think he’ll survive?”

  “Leandro is in excellent hands and the wound he got isn’t lethal. I’ll do whatever’s possible to get him better soon because he’s the only one who can act as regent in your absence. So that means you have to leave right away. If I understand correctly, Mégalath is waiting for you eagerly. See you soon, Mérdmerén. Bring us Nordost. Please.”

  A hood blinded the king and when he opened his eyes he was already galloping toward Mégalath’s back.

  Chapter XXX — Towards the Border of Ashk’Shaala

  The amenities of the Iptaan’s palace were spectacular. At first, the travelers thought the nymphs were female, as their high pitched voices, silky body hair, and eloquent attitude compared with the great males suggested. To the travelers’ surprise, they found that they were not females at all but males castrated in childhood to serve the Iptaan exclusively. They found out later that the females were as big as the male goats, but with softer features and smaller horns. It did not take much close attention to distinguish the sexes, but if you failed to pay attention to details, it was easy to make a mistake.

  “We can’t delay here,” Elgahar said. “You heard what Saaldún said, that they want to change the conditions of the deal. The fact that they’ve offered us food, comforts, and rooms for the night means this is going to take several days.”

  Elgahar’s argument left the rest thoughtful. They all agreed that the mission would be delayed. But they could not deny that they felt honored and quite intrigued to come to know a little more about the culture of the Catalgar, particularly as the giant he-goats had developed a system of government so similar to that of humans and spoke a language that could be considered a sister tongue.

  Merkas had begun making friends among the he-goats. He had been chatting with one of them about metallurgy and welding, and the he-goat had offered to take him to the forge where they created their weaponry. Khad’Un had fallen in love with the green jewel set in the Iptaan’s staff and had started asking about projects for mining the land of Hoomasaas. Amon Ras was thrilled with the history of the Catalgar culture and had already been invited to visit the great library and be shown the epic poems and events of the past.

  But Chirllp was wary. “We have to turn their proposal down,” he said. “I agree with Elgahar. We can’t stay in a world that has changed the terms of the deal without our consent.”

  “We can’t refuse the proposal just like that,” said Turi. “We ought to sit down with them and talk. Otherwise, they might not send their legions to the Meridian, which would be disastrous and a waste of time. Let’s at least hear the changes they’ve made to the original deal.”

  Elgahar addressed the Naevas Aedán in his mind. You’ve been very quiet, Tenchi.

  It’s this place. There’s a lot of sadness here. Didn’t you notice the look the Iptaan gave me? It was one of sadness…

  Hours later, the Iptaan summoned them to his table to eat and drink. The eleven travelers gathered around a long table made from a thick slab of well-polished wood. For chairs, they used tree-stumps. The Catalgar did not sit on the stumps but their hindquarters.

  The hall was lit by candles. The monolith Tagulumich was the only one who did not sit at the table. Instead, he stayed on one side like a rock. Nobody knew how the great crystal fed itself, but Tenchi had suggested it might be through the earth’s elements. Perhaps all this time he had been feeding on the earth on their way to Hoomasaas. Tenchi did not sit down either and decided to hide inside the mage’s hat so as not to be the object of inquisitive eyes.

  They ate many delicacies with different flavors made from the same plant, yamalán, but prepared with a variety of herbs and sauces, boiled or roasted in a wood oven. Clearly, the Catalgar were vegetarians.

  A drink called galdúz appealed to everyone’s taste, and the alcohol was so strong that a couple of sips left Turi dizzy and loosened his tongue. What had begun as a quiet dinner became more animated. The he-goats present at the dinner, including Ekimidos, two other centurions, the Iptaan’s eldest daughter Ulrica, and Saaldún, told stories and a couple of jokes to lighten the awkwardness between strangers.

  When Iptaan had gained the trust of his guests and they had all enjoyed themselves and laughed abundantly, he tapped the table twice with his hand to demand attention and silence.

  The laughter stopped and all gazes focused on Saaldún. Elgahar felt suddenly nervous since, after so many delicacies and so much hospitality, a request on the same generous level was about to be presented. The Iptaan’s gaze turned sad and although he was smiling, his eyes revealed his unhappiness. His eldest daughter took his hand, her eyes too showing great affliction.

  “These are turbulent times, my friends. The disappearance of the God of Fire has brought us great misfortune. A few months back, when the disappearance became apparent, the shadows spread out from Hex, the land of the Yundal and our perennial enemy, and since then, the strength of those wolfish creatures has increased overwhelmingly. Although previously we could manage to beat them and drive them back to their lands, ever since the disappearance of the God of Fire, we’ve been unable to repel them and we have lost countless lives.

  “My people suffer and our empire is on the point of being defeated. The impregnable castle will soon be invaded by our nemesis. I thought I could send you part of my legion, Elgahar. Balthazar’s arrival left an enormous void which, when he left, was filled with violence and fear as if the enemy knew that he was not here anymore.

  “The fire that burnt in Faroos went out after the disappearance of our beloved god. Without the Fire of Yoshto to light the Faroos, our people are lost and our beacons cannot burn. Without being able to communicate, we will lose this war in a matter of
months. The shadows will win.”

  The Iptaan swallowed with difficulty, his gaze lost in the infinite. Then he added, “If I send my legions to your world, my people will die. It’s as simple as that. We would be defeated in a day or less. The enemy has new allies. A powerful spirit has taken over Orx’s body and commands dark magic that none of my shamans have been able to control.”

  Elgahar found it incredible that two planets so distant had followed such similar routes. In the Meridian, the Mandrake Empire had been suppressed by Némaldon for several centuries, whereas here in Farwas, it was Hex and the Yundal who had advanced after the defeat of the Gods.

  “I could send my legions with you on one condition.” Saaldún turned his gaze on each of the foreigners in turn. “If you help me obtain the Fire of Yoshto. If we light Gamoor again, Faroos will shine once more and we will be able to light the beacons which will help us to regain our strength and defeat Orx.

  “What better alliance than that of a powerful mage and legendary warriors from different cultures to aid us in such an enterprise? With your help, we can win. We can win this war.” The leader clenched his fists, his horns shining in the light of the candles.

  Silence. Nobody moved a hair. The Iptaan noticed the disagreement on the faces of his guests. He had known the proposal would not be well received, but he had no option. They were his last resource.

  “Dear Iptaan, great Saaldún,” Elgahar began with a lump in his throat. “We are traveling from world to world in haste, seeking allies and legions to fight Mórgomiel, the God of Chaos. If we delay, we won’t be able to summon the legions of the ten worlds Balthazar has visited, and then we’ll fail in our mission.”

  “I’ll go with you in search of the Fire of Yoshto,” the Iptaan said. His eldest daughter seemed dismayed but said nothing.

  “And so will I,” echoed his centurions.

  “It will not take us more than a day to find it,” the Iptaan said. “Not when we have a powerful mage like you with us. Amana, the last ally of Catalgar, holds that fire. She’s hidden in the Forest of Ashk’shaala. We know how to find her. We have tried to send large groups for the Fire of Yoshto but they have all been intercepted by Orx and his accursed wolves, and they have decimated my heroes.”

  This time, the silence was less uncomfortable. The travelers looked at one another, considering the proposal. If the leader himself proposed to join them, it could not be so bad.

  “We need to confer among ourselves, Iptaan. We’ll decide what is the best for the good of the great mission we bear on our shoulders.”

  Iptaan took his leave with a bow, his shoulders sagging forwards to reveal the dismay he carried like a cloud over his head. Ulrica left them as well and the centurions followed, one by one. The nymphs guided the travelers back to their rooms.

  ***

  After hours of intense deliberation, the Interworld Committee had agreed that, for the common good and the best outcome of their mission, they would sacrifice no more than a day to find the fire of Yoshto to re-establish the balance in Hoomasaas and allow the Catalgar to fight their war with greater strength.

  A day less would not mean too much delay for the mission, while the addition of a legion of these gigantic he-goats to the task of defeating Mórgomiel could certainly mean a lot for the military effort of the Meridian.

  That night, they slept well except for Turi, who could not sleep because he was mulling over the turn his life had taken. Getting involved with Meromérila might be one of the most important events in his whole existence, even as it might easily turn into a prison. Just thinking he would be her husband and have to sit beside her in her empire made him uneasy. Besides, the woman must be at least thirty, if not more. But he could not deny the fact that she fascinated him. According to what she had said, she might be pregnant with his child.

  Turi got up, his bare feet pressing against the cold stone floor of the Palace of Hoomasaas. Elgahar and Tenchi were sleeping in the same room, although he was not sure whether Tenchi ever slept at all.

  Where are you going?

  He turned to see the sphere floating towards him, borne by a pair of minute wings which in theory should not be able to move anything so easily.

  He did not know what to do or how to answer. He had never had dealings with the luminous being on his own but had always relied on Elgahar for communication with the seraph.

  “Shh,” he signaled, wanting to avoid waking the others.

  Don’t worry, I can usually communicate with almost any being without words, although not everybody can communicate with me unless he knows how. Nor can I read all of your thoughts unless you allow me to, so don’t worry. But to do that, you have to grant me access to your mind, and in doing that, I’d be permitting you to enter mine and I don’t want that.

  Turi’s mouth fell open. All he wanted to do was leave the room stealthily and explore a little to remember the days when he was just a thief, simply enjoying the silence and knowing he could get into wherever he wanted without any trouble. His feline reflexes were rusty. He had begun to feel that his joints needed exercise. He felt his stomach and noticed that he was accumulating fat, typical of the politicians he had robbed for years.

  He signaled to the Naevas Aedán to follow him. When they left the room they went a little way and he spoke in a whisper, “I just want to explore a little, that’s all. If you want to come with me, you’re welcome but don’t make any noise. I won’t talk anymore.”

  And with that, the thief turned and began his exploration. The corridors of the Palace of Hoomasaas were quite wide as they had to be since the Catalgar were large creatures as well as tall ones.

  The passages were lit by candles in tall candelabras several strides apart. The candles were still and unmoving as here, the wind did not blow.

  It’s a very ancient place, the Naevas Aedán said in Turi’s mind. It’s taken centuries to build and yet it doesn’t hold good memories. There’s a great deal of sadness here.

  Turi’s perspective of what he was seeing changed. It was true that the corridors were well polished and many decorations hung on the walls between paintings and murals which depicted landscapes thickly-covered with snow while others paid homage to the God of Fire.

  The journey of exploration led Turi along several paths where he had to practice his ability to move like a cat, passing behind guards with such stealth that not even the candles flickered as he passed. The energy and excitement aroused in him by the adventure made him to feel like the Turi he had always been, without all the trappings and changes life had thrown at him.

  The whimper of a he-goat sounded at a distance. He recognized the temple called Faroos by the way the corridors opened into a grand hall where those great columns reared up to the ceiling that showed the sensational mural which depicted the God of Fire fighting against the God of Chaos.

  The echo of the whimpering was loud, which made Turi think that the person in question was not looking to hide his or her sorrows. He walked on silently concealed behind a column. He reached what might have been the altar in the Décamon but instead of a priest saying mass, there was only a Catalgar sitting on its hindquarters with folded hands, praying to a monument whose face was vague. From the flames emerging from his sides, it was a depiction of the God of Fire.

  Turi recognized the figure. It was the Iptaan’s eldest daughter, the goat called Ulrica. It was odd to see goats sitting on their hindquarters like dogs. These beings had six limbs, a fact that was hard to forget: four legs and two arms and they used each limb without any difficulty. Watching them without talking to them was even odder. It made him feel as if he was in a dream.

  “Talo the shaman says you’re dead, powerful God of Fire, dear ArD’Buror… but I refuse to believe that’s true. It can’t be.”

  Ulrica’s sweet voice humanized her and provided Turi with the emotional link he needed to feel for her.

  “They must win or Hoomasaas will disappear forever.”

  He decided to go back
to his room, followed by the Naevas Aedán. Nobody spotted them during the exploration. Turi felt a force rising within him, a desire to help these people however strange they might be. He knew they could not be the only people suffering in the universe. Just like the Catalgar world, there must be thousands of others besieged by evil, all suffering because of the death of their gods and the palpable spread of the shadow.

  ***

  The Iptaan received the verdict with a broad smile, and less than a quarter of hour later he was dressed in purple armor, a helmet with a horizontal grid and a long sword sheathed horizontally by his side. Five Centurions were to go with him, while a hundred more soldiers had made themselves ready for the event.

  The inhabitants of the Meridian realized that days on the planet Farwas were much longer since when the Iptaan commented that it was five in the morning, it must have been nearly noon in the Meridian as far as they were concerned. This could involve all sorts of problems, Elgahar decided, particularly with the time, which appeared to pass slower here judging by the way the sun crept over the horizon. He had never come across this problem before.

  A whole day here would mean two or three in terms of Meridian time and this disconcerted him. He regretted having accepted the deal, but the adventure was already underway, so all he could do was go ahead with it.

  “We’ll stop here for a rest,” the Iptaan said, breaking ranks. Until now, they had been traveling along a gravel road, clearly marked by a fringe of forest on either side.

  The sun, high above, appeared small. Here, it was noon, but despite that, it was not shining strongly. The reason for the freezing winters was obvious, as well as the need to be wrapped up well. Despite their thick coats, the travelers, apart from Tenchi and Tagulumich, were shivering.

  From the sky, there descended a winged figure followed by ten others.

  “Perófias! High time, my friend!” cried Saaldún when he saw the pegasus. The other Catalgar greeted the winged horses with a mere nod. The travelers had not had much to do with the pegasus, but of course, they were impressed to see the creature they had tamed on their planet capable of flight, speech, and reasoning.