Trials

by Pedro Urvi

  “Follow me in silence, and when I say silence, I mean it!” he said in some irritation.

  Lindaro and Sonea smiled and almost clapped their hands, as if salvation had descended from the heavens to seek them out.

  Lasgol shook his head and grumbled to himself. It took him some time to calm down, and when at last he did, he began to inspect the area in search of marks he could interpret. He turned south and then west without leaving the shore, followed silently by the two scholars at a safe distance. An orange sun was beginning to go down on the lake, as if it sought to bathe in the fresh water and quench its eternal fire. At last Lasgol found the trace he was looking for. He could clearly make out Iruki’s footprints, and beside hers the faint, almost ethereal mark of Yakumo’s feet.

  And a third set of prints.

  Morksen’s discreet footprints.

  The heartless rat!

  “He’s betrayed me!” cried Lasgol. Reading the tracks, he deduced he had taken the two prisoners east, crossing the steep fir-woods.

  “What is it?” Lindaro asked uneasily.

  Lasgol was furious. “That treacherous snake has played me for a fool!”

  “What a surprise…” Sonea said with a smirk.

  “I knew he’d try something, but I didn’t believe he’d betray me like this. The stinking rat.”

  “He won’t harm them… will he?” Lindaro asked, looking worried.

  “I very much fear he won’t hesitate for a single moment if the wind isn’t blowing in his favor. I hope Iruki doesn’t let her wild nature get the better of her, or else she’ll be in serious trouble. Morksen is an amoral man and a crook, he won’t hesitate to get rid of whatever gets in the way of his own goals. If you want to help them, pray to your Light, because they’ll need it.”

  “Let’s hunt him,” suggested Sonea, as if at that same moment she had turned into an experienced hunter of men.

  Lasgol looked at her incredulously. Sonea blushed.

  “I’ll hunt them down. You two follow my trail at a distance. Morksen is extremely dangerous and won’t hesitate to use you against me if he gets the chance. I’ll leave a trail you won’t miss. Don’t stray from it or you’ll risk getting lost, or even worse, running into Zangrian patrols or some wild beast in these forests.”

  Lindaro nodded. “We won’t stray an inch,” he said.

  “All right, then. I must get going. They’re too far ahead as it is.”

  Lasgol started to run towards the forest, and Sonea shouted:

  “Thank you, Lasgol! We owe you our lives!”

  The Norghanian Forest Ranger turned, looked at the little librarian for a moment and nodded in recognition. The next moment he had vanished into the forest.

  Iruki felt the sharp edge of the knife on her neck and froze. Behind her Morksen was holding her fast, one hand on her waist and the other threatening to cut her throat.

  “If you try anything else, she dies,” he said to Yakumo. The Assassin’s hands were tied behind his back and he was looking at the old Tracker with a lethal gleam in his black eyes. Morksen pressed the knife harder, and a drop of blood ran down Iruki’s neck.

  The tension between both men was extreme.

  Iruki knew that if she tried anything now it would mean her death. This heartless swine was extremely dangerous and slippery as an eel.

  Yakumo took half a step back, as far as the cord which tied him to Iruki permitted. Both prisoners were joined at the waist with expert knots.

  “Attaboy, that’s the way I like it. Don’t you forget who’s the boss here.”

  Yakumo nodded slowly, as if making a bow.

  Morksen spat to one side.

  “I’m going to remind you, Assassin, that I don’t need her. I can get rid of her annoying presence at any time, whenever it pleases me. She won’t even realize: one quick sure stroke and she’ll die in the blink of an eye. So don’t you forget, Assassin, she’ll go on living as long as she’s useful to me, so you’d better not try anything stupid. With or without the Gift, Assassin or not, you’re not quick enough to stop me killing her. So make sure you remember that. I can assure you, death is my business, I’ve been dealing in it for many years. I’m a master.”

  “The way is long… and we’ll be on our guard…” Iruki threatened him.

  “Shut up, you Masig bitch! Or I’ll cut your throat like that of a rabbit right now.”

  Yakumo glanced at Iruki. His eyes were bright with worry, and she understood that this was not the time to bring the dangerous situation to a head. She decided to keep quiet and wait for the right moment. A moment which she would wait for eagerly and patiently.

  “Turn round!” Morksen ordered Yakumo.

  The Assassin did as he was told and turned slowly, keeping contact with Iruki’s eyes until he had completed the turn. When she saw the deep concern in her beloved’s eyes she felt a pang in her chest. How she loved him… how she wished to be with him, to be free to ride on the steppes beside him, free to love him all night under the full moon! She would do anything to make that love come true.

  Morksen looked back over his shoulder.

  “We’re going to move at a good pace. Lasgol will come looking for us soon, and I’ve no intention of letting him catch me like a novice just because of you two. No, that’s not what’s going to happen. The reward for your capture will be mine, Assassin. Mine alone. General Rangulfsen has offered a good sum of gold for handing you over, and I plan on collecting it all for myself. I wasn’t going to share that sort of prize with a stupid, idealistic, honorable idiot like Lasgol. No way! The moron can have his reward in righteousness if he so wishes, but the gold’s mine. Now let’s go on. Night’s not far off, and we have a long way ahead of us.”

  Iruki felt Morksen withdraw the knife from her neck, and breathed again. She had been very close to dying at the hands of that Norghanian hyena. They had to escape; she could not let him deliver Yakumo to the Norghanians. There must be something she could do. There would be an opportunity to escape at some point or another; it was just a question of waiting for the right moment. The stench of Morksen’s putrid breath assailed her and made her gag.

  “Come on, you bitch of the steppes, and don’t forget I’m not taking my eyes off your back for a single moment.”

  A chill, a mixture of loathing and fear, ran down her spine.

  Perhaps the moment would not come.

  Lasgol found the trail without too much trouble, and this surprised him. Morksen was an expert tracker, regarded as an infallible hunter of men, and for some reason Lasgol could not understand he was not hiding his trail with the care the situation demanded. There’s no doubt Morksen knows I’ll come after him. Why isn’t he hiding his trail better? It almost looks as though he’s not even trying. It doesn’t make sense… He stared at the footprints and immediately recognized those of Morksen, guiding Iruki before him. Ahead of the two he could make out the Assassin’s, those tracks which were practically undetectable if Yakumo chose to make them so. Too obvious, too easy. Something’s amiss.

  He looked up and scanned the dense poplar forest. He went in carefully and activated his ability to camouflage. He remained still and silent. His body began to blend in with his surroundings as if he were a chameleon, adopting and assimilating the colors of the vegetation around him. After a moment he was practically invisible to the human eye, assuming he made no sudden movements.

  He went on deeper into the woods, following the trail of the three fugitives as far as an open gully with a crystalline brook flowing down it. Beside the brook he saw Morksen crouching to fill a water-skin. A little further away Iruki was struggling with her bonds, trying to break loose from the tree he had tied her to. But there was no trace of Yakumo, and this worried Lasgol deeply. He prepared his approach and very carefully began to move, looking to surprise the treacherous veteran tracker from behind. He moved very slowly, crouching, in absolute silence, stalking like a great predator. He came within two steps of Morksen’s back without being discover
ed. He was preparing to take him by surprise when he heard a voice.

  “He’s only two steps away from your back, Morksen.”

  Lasgol’s blood froze. It was Yakumo’s voice.

  Morksen turned at once and unsheathed his hunting knife.

  “I can’t see you, Lasgol, but if the Assassin says you’re there, you must be.”

  Lasgol could not understand what was going on. Was Yakumo really cooperating with Morksen? Why? Why would he help a snake like that? It was impossible!

  And then Morksen surprised him again. Instead of fighting, he ran to hide behind Iruki.

  What on earth was going on here? Lasgol was totally confused. Yakumo emerged from the shadow of two big poplars, making himself visible. Lasgol did not move, even though he was aware that the Assassin had detected him by using his dark power, the one he had used to make himself disappear among the shadows of the trees so that Lasgol could not see him.

  Morksen and Iruki were looking in his direction, trying to locate him, but Lasgol knew they would not be able to.

  With extreme care he nocked an arrow and aimed at the Tracker hiding behind the young Masig.

  “He’s aiming at you,” Yakumo warned again. This confused Lasgol even more. Why was the Assassin warning his enemy?

  Morksen hid himself completely behind Iruki, not allowing Lasgol a clean shot. Even so, he might risk it using his skill to make an arrow find its target, although the risk was high and if he missed he would kill Iruki.

  “Finish him off,” Morksen barked at the Assassin. “What are you waiting for?

  Lasgol looked at Yakumo and saw the red gleam of his shadowy magic as he activated it. Is he really going to take me out instead of killing that treacherous scum? It’s crazy! What’s he doing?

  With a lightning-quick movement the Assassin threw two silver blades at him at a dizzying speed. Lasgol saw them heading straight for his chest, and using his enhanced reflexes he placed his bow in the way. Both blades stuck in the wood, and with the abrupt movement Lasgol was revealed.

  “So there you are! Now you won’t get away!” Morksen cried exultantly.

  “I should’ve let you drown when I had the opportunity. I knew I’d regret it.”

  “But you didn’t do it, boss, you lost your chance.” He shook his head and gave a sneering smile. “And now you’ll pay dearly. That’s what happens with men of ideals, lots of honor, lots of courage… but unfortunately they don’t usually live long, as it’s going to turn out in your case. Kill him, I said!” he cried, turning to the waiting Assassin.

  Iruki struggled.

  “Don’t kill him, Yakumo! Please, I beg you. You know I’d celebrate the death of any Norghanian pig. They’re no more than a race of rapists and murderers without a conscience. But not like this, not serving another Norghanian. If you kill him serving this rabid dog you’ll just be killing all over again following the orders of vile, heartless men. That’s not the way to redemption. If you do what this scum wants you to do, your soul will blacken once again, you’ll lose that tiny seed of hope we planted. Don’t allow it, stay strong, don’t do what he says. I beg you… for me…”

  “Shut up, you bitch of the steppes!” threatened Morksen.

  “I have no choice…” Yakumo said dully, preparing his black daggers of death.

  Lasgol dropped his bow and unsheathed his two short swords with a swift movement.

  “Why do you have no choice?” he asked Yakumo in puzzlement. “Why haven’t you attacked him?”

  “Because I’m the one with the ace up his sleeve, and it’s me who controls the game,” Morksen said triumphantly, showing him a small wooden jar. “Do you know what’s in it? You don’t, do you? I’ll tell you, boss: a potent poison of my own creation. Surprised? I’m afraid you are.” He smiled, his mouth twisting into an expression of enjoyment. “It’s a secret hobby of mine, nobody knows about it —nobody who might still be alive, that is— and it’s something that’s been very useful to me, extremely useful, for years.”

  “He’s poisoned her,” Yakumo said, his face showing great worry.

  Finally Lasgol understood the situation, the difficult extortion Yakumo was suffering.

  “And I’m the only one who can provide the antidote, since there’s only one and I’ve made it myself very carefully…” Morksen said, with a dirty grin disfiguring his ugly face.

  “He hasn’t got the antidote, Yakumo. Don’t believe him! It’s one more ruse of this stinking hyena!” Iruki cried in fury.

  “Hah! But I do have it, little wildling,” Morksen said, showing them another jar. He shook it in front of Iruki’s eyes and put it to his mouth. “Do what you were created for, Assassin, kill Lasgol, or else I’ll uncork the antidote and pour it all out. Your Masig princess has only a few more moments to live, so you decide, Assassin.”

  Yakumo looked at Iruki, then at Lasgol. He tightened his grip on his black daggers.

  “Wait, Yakumo,” Lasgol said in an attempt to stop him, “There has to be another way out. Killing each other while this swine enjoys the spectacle can’t be the only one. He’s right in part of what he said. I’m guided by an honor and loyalty which with every passing day I find more difficult to keep to. I can’t be blind to the cruelty of my fellow-countrymen and what they’re doing in Rogdon. They kill children and old people equally, rape helpless women, plunder whatever comes to their greedy eyes, destroy what they please… it’s a dishonor and a heavy load to bear which are undermining my soul. I’m forced to work with treacherous snakes like Morksen. And what’s all this for? The King’s orders? The Great Thoran, carrying out an unjustifiable act of revenge from his castle in the frozen mountains of Norghana? For the good of the Kingdom? Oh, I don’t think so… Every day I believe in that less and less. I don’t want to kill you, Assassin, I don’t want to cause any harm to Iruki. I don’t care whether that contradicts my orders, if it goes against what’s expected of me. Come on, Yakumo. Let’s not fight, let’s find a solution together. I know we can.”

  “Kill him right now or I’ll slit her throat!” Morksen cried, touching the knife to Iruki’s neck once again.

  Yakumo looked at Lasgol for a single tense moment.

  And leapt on him.

  Lasgol knew he could not beat the Assassin in a face-to-face fight. This man’s dark arts and ability to deliver death to his opponents were incomparable. He was too lethal. Lasgol dodged the attack and felt one of the daggers touch his shoulder. The daggers flew towards his neck in deadly arcs, at incredible speed. Lasgol defended himself, blocking with his short swords. The Assassin cut him again, this time on the cheek. Blood ran down Lasgol’s face. He would not be able to keep this up much longer. His defensive moves were a little slower each time, and Yakumo’s attacks faster and faster.

  Suddenly the Assassin disappeared before his eyes, evaporating into thin air, leaving Lasgol stunned, then reappeared behind him.

  Damn…

  The Ranger turned to protect himself, but as he had feared, it was too late. The two black daggers danced and disarmed him; both his swords fell to the ground.

  He was helpless.

  Yakumo looked at him for a single moment.

  “Finish him off!” yelled Morksen.

  Lasgol looked at the Assassin. His black eyes were inscrutable.

  A dagger slashed the air and caught him in the chest.

  Lasgol fell backwards with his chest slashed open.

  “Yes! Kill him! Kill him!” Morksen was euphoric.

  The Assassin lunged at Lasgol and cut his chest again.

  Morksen was ecstatic.

  Yakumo rose slowly from Lasgol’s body and turned towards Morksen. He started to walk in his direction.

  “What are you doing? Stop!”

  The Assassin leapt, somersaulted in mid-air and landed behind Morksen.

  The veteran did not flinch. He turned completely round and placed Iruki between himself and Yakumo.

  Lasgol looked down at his chest and saw with great surp
rise that the deadly cuts were actually painful but superficial. Yakumo had not killed him. He looked up and saw his bow. With the speed of an expert archer he nocked it and aimed at Morksen’s head.

  “If you take one more step… I’ll kill her!” Morksen said.

  The Assassin stopped, looked at Lasgol and nodded.

  Morksen, feeling that something was not right, turned his head back.

  Lasgol’s arrow reached him squarely in his good eye and went through his skull.

  “Die, you scum,” said Lasgol, passing judgment.

  Mage

  Komir crossed the portal and felt a strange sensation, followed by a sharp pain running along his entire body, a generalized cramp which left him breathless, as if all his muscles had atrophied after some exhausting effort. There was no trace of strength left in his body. He was absolutely helpless, trying not to drop his sword or the hunting knife in his hands, which could barely hold them. He looked around the rectangular hall he was in. Ilenian hieroglyphs were carved on to the smooth surfaces of the walls. A lugubrious silence pervaded everything. The place looked abandoned, as if no one had set foot there in hundreds of years…

  A dull buzz to his right made him turn his head, and he saw Hartz appear out of the portal. With a grimace of pain, the giant was trying to hold on to his sword, but it looked as if he was going to drop it at any moment.

  “What… what the hell…” he muttered.