Ardent

by Florian Armas

  Why I am dreaming of killing at a greater distance? I shook my head. Is Ada right that these books may be dangerous?

  The Talant man was not changing anything in the past for a reason named the ‘Grandfather Paradox’. It was not explained, and that frustrated me. What influence can a grandfather have on such travels? I would have wished to change the past. To his credit, the Talant man wanted that too – he was able to see many things that were wrong – but he was terrified by that paradox and by something named the ‘Time Police’. These police, men and women, resembled our Assassins closely, except that they were dressed in some spotted dark green clothes and hired by some ‘corporations’ on a regular basis, like the guards of our cities. The corporations were large cities, some having millions of people. Such size was mind bending. There were not a million people in all of Frankis when the last King made a census, fifty years ago. The largest city I had ever seen was Muniker, the Litvonian capital – it had thirty-five thousand people. From Ada, I knew that Alba was the largest city in the world, having sixty thousand inhabitants.

  When the things I read were too weird to understand, I just closed the book, scenting its cover – it was no different to our own books, and that disappointed me; I was expecting something different. In the beginning, I thought that maybe Ada was teasing me with that chemist animal, but she was right. The animal existed. It was mentioned in the book as producing some unusual milk for the ‘immune system’. Another name for the stomach, I supposed; the man traveling in the past was taking the milk to avoid poisoning through drinking water from rivers and lakes.

  So weak they were... I know no one who has problems from drinking water from a river.

  “Still reading?” Ada asked, entering the room. Amused, her eyes probed me, letting me guess what thoughts were born behind them.

  “I want to finish it before I leave. It pains me that there are no Talant books in Frankis.”

  “There may be, my dear. There may be. Forty-five years ago we found a tomb with three unknown books, even older than the Talant ones. They were written in letters no one could understand.”

  “Empire after empire after empire. What could that mean?”

  “Continuity, maybe.”

  “What about the first one?”

  “Evolution.” Ada turned her hands up, and smiled in a distant way, as if she were lost in her own thoughts. “Perhaps, but I did not come for that.” She took out a book from her bag. In silence, she proffered the thing to me, and I opened it greedily. “What a child you are,” she laughed. “No more than I am. No more than I am in front of a new book.”

  “Thank you, Ada,” I whispered. It was a handwritten copy of the Talant grammar book and dictionary.

  “Thanks to our sisters, here. They worked hard, and made several copies. One copy will stay here, another will go to Litvonia. More copies will be written later for the smaller Kingdoms.”

  “Do you know what ‘artificial’ means in Talant language?”

  “Artificial?” she frowned. “I think ... I think I saw it somewhere.”

  “I read something about ‘artificial leather’ being more resistant than other types. I suppose that it refers to this,” I touched the cover of the book in my hand. “It lived more than four thousand years.”

  “Different races of chemist animals, perhaps, producing different types of leather. Like we have many types of wool. The best wool in Arenia is Melinos. You must have something in Frankis too.”

  “Pyrney wool. It comes from the mountains in the south. Different types of leather... It makes sense.” I touched again the strange leather that even after four thousand years was still soft.

  “In one week, that book,” she pointed to the old Talant tome in my hands, “will be copied too.”

  “Am I missing something?”

  “A vision,” Ada smiled. “I had it on the road here. You and a young man I think was Codrin were reading an unknown Talant book. Last time I saw him, he was just thirteen years old, and I was younger too,” she sighed. “The vision may have some importance. It may or may not be related to the Fracture.”

  “It’s so strange,” I rubbed my temple. “At some point in the past, the Talants were just like us. They had Kings and Princesses, Knights riding horses and fighting with swords and arrows. The man in the book went seven hundred years in his past. He dreamt to be a Knight and... Ah, I forgot that you’ve read the book too. It’s his present that disturbed me. They had flying chariots, machines to travel in the past, and ... terrific weapons. All these changes in just seven hundred years. We struggled for four thousand and look where we are now.”

  “Yes,” Ada shrugged.

  “Do you think we will follow the same path?”

  “Do you mean, being able to build flying chariots? We may.”

  “And terrible weapons, and then we will attack each other with them, and everything goes back to swords and horses or even worse. And again, and again. What kind of cycle is this?”

  “Who really knows what happened, my dear? But, you are right, it may happen again.”

  “You know,” I said thoughtfully, “at the beginning, I could not believe that sometimes books can be dangerous.”

  “And now?” Ada mused.

  “It may be true,” I shrugged. “But it may be also true that we can rediscover many things that were lost, just, that we need to be more careful with the path we choose. The Talant books might teach us what we should not do, as much as what we should do.”

  “You may be right, my dear. Some kings of today are in no way different from those who started the White Salt - Talant war. We still don’t know who really started that war. The Talants wrote that it was the other side, but...” she shrugged. “Anyway, that’s why all the Talant books are gathered in one place, a particular section of the Royal Library where you need a special conduct to enter, and there is a warning written upon the summit of the door: Behold; you who enter here, as you may never be the same.” Ada frowned briefly, then smiled and handed me a paper. “An approximate map of the desert lying south of Pyrney Mountains in Frankis. And here,” her finger tapped on a marked point of the map, “is one place I remembered having some large Talant ruins. I made the map from my memory. In Arenia, I will compare it with the one we have it stored in the library. I will send you another map, if this one is too different.” She took her time to look at me, her stare both motherly and incisive. “I think your mind is fully healed.”

  “No Meriaduk hiding in my mind,” I said, half mockingly.

  “That was clear to me from the beginning. Well, almost… You are now strong enough to receive a Passing. Tomorrow morning?” she stared again at me, and I just nodded. “It will remain our secret. I will not use a Tertiatur.”

  Through the half open window, both cold and sunlight were entering the room. It was morning again, pleasant and refreshing at the same time. And silent. From the sill, Umbra and Ranger – who was Ada’s peregrine raven – were staring at us, ready to act if something would go wrong. Even for Ada’s renowned skills, a Passing without a Tertiatur’s watch was dangerous. Valera was affected too, when she performed the Passing on me, but she was already dreaming of a new beginning on the other side. One day, I will meet my parents and sisters again. Ada still wanted to stay here, among us. With crossed arms, we clasped hands, and breathed in and out, deeply, slower and slower. As it happened with my first Passing, the lighting exploded behind my closed eyelids. The shock circled back and forth in my skull and between us until it became a slight tremor. It ended when the bond was established, a communion of minds, being two women at once; not the telepathy that exists between a Light and her peregrine raven, but mutual awareness. It resembled the way we were opening the Light, so Fate could enlighten us. Instead of an unknown persona, I saw Ada’s image unfolding in front of me: a young girl walking barefooted on grass. There was a house with walls of light yellow color, a blue lake, not far away, and palms that you can see only in the south.

  With
a chuckle, the young Ada said: “Yes, that is how I feel. What you see is the house where I was born, and the lake where the child, I was a long time ago, swam, every time she found some free time. Open your mind. You are aware of both opportunity and danger, though something will be different now. Valera was leaving us, and needed nothing more. I hope to stay for a while,” she laughed. “I have much to give you, as you have too.”

  “I don’t know how to give.”

  “It’s easy. I will say a word, and your mind will open to me, revealing whatever you know about that word.”

  “Codrin,” I whispered. “You want to know if he is the Seer to come.”

  “Of course I want it,” she laughed, “but no one will answer me, because you don’t know it either. It’s just that I want to know him better. And what word would you like to say?”

  “Talant?” I offered tentatively.

  Ada’s right hand moved from mine, and something appeared in our common vision. A paper. A single word was written on it: Talant. “I wrote it before coming here, to help me focus during the transfer,” she laughed. “Open your mind. I will start with the bad things. It’s better like this.”

  An image came to me, a large city with buildings so tall that they resembled mountains. At first, I thought to be just an illusion.

  “It’s not an illusion,” Ada reacted, able to hear my thoughts. A new set of images came with more buildings.

  “They had many cities like this,” I finally said something.

  “Yes, but what everything you saw belongs to only one city.”

  I think that I gaped, as she chuckled and no word could form in my mind. The image changed: a huge mushroom made of smoke filled everything.

  “And now,” Ada said, in a sad voice. “This is what remained from that city after the mushroom cloud hit it.”

  A bunch of ruins filled my mind. They were so spread that covered everything to the horizon, and there were no traces left of the humans and animals residing in the city before.

  Millions…

  I think that I panicked, as our bond ended abruptly, and I found myself fighting hard to control my breath.

  “Calm down, my dear.” Ada gripped my hand. “We should stop now. It may be that your mind is still affected by the Maletera.”

  “It’s not that Ada. It’s… Millions died when that city was destroyed, more people that we have now in Frankis.”

  “Yes, my dear. As I told you, we started with the bad things, and I did not finish them. We have enough time for another Passing, before we leave the Hive,” she patted my hand. “Rest now. I need a good sleep too,” she sighed, and only then I realized the weakness in her voice.

  Chapter 10 – Codrin

  “Three months in a row I’ve cursed you,” Cantemir welcomed me, the moment I entered his office, and found him at his desk, surrounded by parchment scrolls. The end of the winter had brought some good weather, and I could finally escape from the mountains, taking the longest road, going through Dorna.

  “Greetings to you too,” I grinned. “What did I do to deserve your wrath?”

  “Wrath? Can’t I worry for a missing friend?” Cantemir clasped my hand.

  “Ah, it was a worrying curse. I understand. Curse the snow; it kept me prisoner in the mountains. I came directly here, so why are you complaining?”

  “That man you tried to save on the road. He did not seem to be Boar’s friend, and Little Boar is more cunning than his brother.”

  “I agree with you,” I said casually. “He was a cunning man.”

  Cantemir’s glance grew startled and sharp, for an instant. “Tudor, don’t make powerful enemies; they could be dangerous for your health.”

  “I had the impression that Little Boar was not your friend either. My traces are covered well.” Codrin did it. I almost smiled. Not that I was not in danger, but the tracks were mixed for the hounds, and there were only three people able to link Codrin and Tudor; a Wanderer and two friends. I may name Dochia a friend too.

  “You did it for me,” Cantemir mocked.

  “No, but if it suits you to think so. What was it you said? ‘The Boars received less land that they wanted. More than they deserved.’ Such a hard difference in opinions may be dangerous. Boar’s heir is still a toddler, so we have some time until he can avenge his father. No one knows about you being at the Angle, when Boar died,” I added quickly. “The winter was hard for the soldiers we confronted there.” They have a new master.

  “A hard winter indeed. But ... Lenard,” Cantemir said thoughtfully. “You forgot Lenard. He lost two Knights. His entire eastern border is no longer covered. I can’t make a direct enquiry; Lenard is not the same ally he was, since his daughter’s death. And he knows that there was not much friendship between Boar and me. I will have to ask somebody else.”

  “Don’t. The less you dig, the faster they will forget. Let it pass. The graves won’t speak. Will Orban remarry?”

  “I don’t think so. He has enough young mistresses to enjoy, and Lenard will become even more distant, if someone else replaces his daughter as Orban’s wife. Lenard wants his grandson to inherit Arad. Another heir from a new wife may complicate the succession.”

  “Orban’s son is...” I let my words suspended; many people knew that he was not suited to rule. An ignoble young man who inherited his father’s bad temper and cruelty without that ruthless intelligence. He is even worse than Veres...

  “Yes, he is,” Cantemir said curtly. “Not the first idiot to become ruler, nor the last. Such a world we live in. Lamia is intelligent and kind,” he added; his voice carrying a touch of fondness. “She is everything that the young idiot isn’t. It reminds me of... Never mind.”

  Lamia was Orban’s daughter. He had five children, one from his first wife, and only two were still alive. The oldest one, Bernd, I killed in the forest, when he tried to rape Jara, but two died young, and many said that they were deformed and brainless.

  Why is Lamia different? She reminds Cantemir of...? Another man? “How old is she?” And why is he fond of her?

  “Fifteen. Are you looking for a bride?” Cantemir smiled. Behind his amusement, Cantemir had asked a serious question. In the month and a half we spent together the year before, he had slowly begun to act like a kind of tutor.

  “Unwed men are always looking for brides, but nobodies, marry nobodies, or with Fate’s help a small somebody.”

  “Agnes could be that small somebody.” Her father, Mantel, was Half-Knight in Arad, and Agnes the only heir, as her brothers had died in Severin the year before. “You are...” Cantemir frowned, “twenty years old. She is sixteen. I can lean on Mantel to sign a marriage contract, to be fulfilled two years from now, so there would be plenty of time for you to still enjoy a more libertine life. And it will be a place in Arad where I can find you.”

  There was a moment of silence, in which I pondered how much I should reveal about my status, in both forms: Codrin and Tudor. Cantemir was waiting patiently, probably thinking that his bait would finally anchor me in Arad. “Last year we separated in some kind of haste, and ... I am Half-Knight now.” Codrin is already Knight... I pondered again, trying to keep some barriers between my two identities. “Agnes is a fine girl and a good opportunity, but I would like to wait a little longer. Maybe Fate will be even kinder with me. I am still young.”

  “Young and ambitious.” Cantemir laughed and slapped my shoulder. “Don’t worry; I have a list of girls inheriting a full Knight dominion too. It seems that I missed the news about your ... Knighthood.”

  “Yes, I spoke with the snow in the mountains for some months. Quite a good listener the snow is; it never contradicts you,” I grinned. “And that brings me to something else: Aron’s son.” In the long winter nights, that untruth about Bucur commanding Severin’s army gnawed at me.

  “From Severin?”

  “Yes. Someone sold you the wrong information. His son never commanded Severin’s army. Somebody else defeated you.”

  “Ar
e you sure?” Cantemir asked, frowning hard, then threw himself back in his chair, and I just nodded. “I trust you... Are you sure?” he asked again, and I did not bother to reply, even when his reaction baffled me. “Then we’ve made a terrible mistake.” Cantemir touched his temple with one hand, and his other hand’s grip made something in the corners of his desk creak. “That stupid...” Cantemir arrested his rant mid-word and sucked down a few breaths. It was not enough. “I should have known this before. Terrible mistake,” he lamented again.

  “Maybe I can help,” I said, tentatively. “If I know more.”

  “It concerns the Circle.” Cantemir coldly dismissed my attempt. “And it can’t be undone. Maybe mitigated, but it can’t be undone. Stupid!” His temper flared again, and he slammed his fist on the velvet covering the desk. It complained in a muffled tone. He stood up abruptly, and moved to walk around the room, his face ashen.

  What could be so important?

  Read this.” He picked up a letter from his desk, and pushed it to me, before walking around the room again. He often asked me to read some correspondence when he wanted a second opinion, so I was not surprised.

  Opening the letter, I recognized Mara’s writing, and my eyes moved down the paper: it was signed by Calin. “The signature belongs to the former Secretary of Mehadia,” I said, “but this is not his writing.”

  “It was written by his daughter. Read it,” Cantemir ordered.

  There was a long introduction, until I arrived at passage that burned both of us, and by habit I read the most important paragraphs aloud in his presence. “Some false words are flying north and south right now. It doesn’t look to me like an accidental thing. There is a political maneuver to push for a realignment of forces based on false considerations. The man who defeated your armies in Severin is not Aron’s son. I know, coming from me, it looks like a grumpy old man trying to wind down a longstanding rival. There may be blood between Aron and me, but this letter is written with ink. Just as a reminder: as you already know, I negotiated Mehadia’s surrender to Mohor. It was not Mohor, nor Aron on the other side of the negotiation table. There was only one person, a young man named Codrin.” Is Calin betraying me? With a deep breath, I tried to calm myself, and then coughed to gather control over my voice. “Codrin was the commander of Severin’s army. And from everything I know, the one who defeated you in Severin, a month later. Through this letter, I want to warn the Circle about his potential. He has both the quality and the will to solve some of the problems we are facing today in Frankis.” Signed Calin, Partum Secretary of Mehadia. I continued reading in my mind. Maybe Calin is not a traitor after all. But what is the importance of all this? Slowly, I let the paper fall onto Cantemir’s desk.