‘Thank you, Cucub,’ said Zabralkán. ‘Now please leave us.’
‘Very well!’ said Cucub. ‘But allow me to take the eagle with me. She has saved my life more than once, and I will do my best to save hers.’
‘If you are going to take her, do it at once,’ insisted Bor.
Cucub went over to his friend. He had great difficulty lifting her and carrying her towards the door. Zabralkán was quick to open it for him.
‘Good luck, Cucub.’
Bor and Zabralkán were opposed in mind and body.
‘The strangers must not enter here,’ said Zabralkán. ‘We must avoid their coming into our House. For the present at least, until our brother representatives have heard this news.’
‘There is nothing new,’ retorted Bor. ‘There is a stone, whose existence we already knew of. A stone of uncertain origin which cannot of itself tell us what the stars of the sky have not already revealed.’
‘A stone which mobilized the luku people, which cast a shadow over Dulkancellin, and made Kupuka do things he was not prepared for.’
‘The lukus... Dulkancellin... Kupuka...’ Bor repeated. ‘It seems as though the Creatures of the south have a great influence in the House of the Stars.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
Zabralkán knew the answer, but he wanted Bor to hear himself.
‘What is your meaning?’ he repeated.
‘My meaning is to remember our roots are in the Magic of the Ancient Lands, and not in some ignorant people of the southern isles. My meaning is that we should not forget we are the sons of the Great Wisdom of the north.’
‘Our hope is that we are sons of the Great Wisdom of the world,’ Zabralkán interrupted him. And without giving Bor any chance to speak, he added: ‘The strangers will not enter the House of the Stars today. We will not discuss that decision now. We will do so tomorrow. And with all the other representatives. We will discuss all that is necessary. It is possible that, like you, they will disapprove of this decision, which may be the fruit of a misapprehension or deceit. Until such time, we will do all we can to prevent the strangers leaving any mark on our earth.’
‘If that is the case, we must act immediately,’ said Bor. ‘The strangers are drawing near.’
The two Astronomers fell silent in order to listen. On the wind they could hear the sounds of celebration and astonishment that accompanied the arrival of the three strangers in the city.
There was no time to lose. Zabralkán left the observatory and set about the complicated descent to the main gate. He took short, rapid steps, completely forgetting the decorum usually shown by the Supreme Astronomer of the House of the Stars. He quickly left behind the highest staircases and long passageways. Apprentices and servants could not believe their eyes: Zabralkán raced through the rooms, appearing and disappearing at each twist and turn of the stairways, going down and down. Not at the usual slow pace of an old man and Astronomer, but with an urgency unsuited to his rank. Behind him came Bor, shouting orders to right and left in order to gather the retinue that always accompanied the Supreme Astronomers when they left their House.
Zabralkán was willing to rush out onto the platform in front of the building like any other human being. The guards at the main gate were taken by surprise by the group led by the old man. Their appearance was so sudden the guards barely had time to push open the heavy carved stone doors. Zabralkán was the first to emerge, followed by Bor, looking like thunder; and finally their escort, who had not yet managed to form proper lines. All of them reached the centre of the platform, then came to a halt. This gave the escort a chance to line up properly. Bor’s face relaxed, and Zabralkán was a majestic old man once more.
The Supreme Astronomers stood waiting, their attention fixed on the confused clamour they could hear approaching along the paved main avenue. The strangers were there, at the gates of the House of the Stars, after having crossed the whole of Beleram.
Beleram, the capital of the Remote Realm. The city that their Magic had ordered to be built, the only sacred city, the one of which no one could dream, the one conserving the most ancient holy books, the one that observed the sky from its highest towers ...
The entire population had come out to celebrate the arrival of the visitors. But as they drew near to the House of the Stars, the sounds were no longer those of celebration or open amazement. Instead, the crowd muttered darkly as the procession advanced.
At its head were the lesser Astronomers chosen to go to the coast to receive the strangers. Each of them was in a covered litter carried by four servants. Behind them came their assistants. A little further off were the strangers. Some in the crowd narrowed their eyes as if seeking to penetrate as far as the bones of the men dressed in black. Others were shouting, trying to name the strange beasts the strangers rode, which none of them had ever seen before. ‘Animal with mane,’ said someone. The name spread from mouth to mouth, until everyone was calling them that, and making them their own. Two of these animals, which instead of having men on their backs were covered by richly embroidered cloths, were being led by a Zitzahay. Dulkancellin’s men had taken up their positions on either side and at the rear of the procession.
The procession came to a halt outside the House of the Stars. On their litters, the lesser Astronomers were astonished to see Zabralkán and Bor waiting at the centre of the platform. That was not what had been agreed, nor did it seem prudent. They quickly ordered their servants to set the litters down. If the Supreme Astronomers were standing, they could not remain seated, and much less look down on them. The servants carefully lifted the litters from their shoulders and gently placed them on the ground. Dulkancellin at once ordered the strangers to dismount.
Drimus understood that something untoward was preventing him gaining access to the House of the Stars. He deduced this from Zabralkán’s gestures and from the way the lesser Astronomers turned to look at him. When the Supreme Astronomers sent for the Husihuilke warrior chief, Drimus realized that his mission might be under threat.
Among all of Misáianes’ subjects, Drimus was the chosen one. Misáianes had chosen him to leave the first mark of the Sideresians in the House of the Stars. When that happened, the most important part would be accomplished! By the time Leogrós arrived, waging his campaign of slaughter from the north, he would find Magic’s sacred place corrupted and sick. It would only take their dogs’ fetid breath to dissolve its stone walls. Better than anyone, Drimus was the person who could confound the Astronomers, because he understood Misáianes’ aims far beyond annihilation and slaughter. And because like them he spoke the languages of Wisdom. Drimus, glorious son of the Magic of the Ancient Lands, disdained all ambition for riches or the power of arms. The Doctrinator dreamt of an eternity that few could comprehend.
The same Astronomer who had greeted him in the port was speaking to him. He was saying he would not be received that day, but that he and his companions would be taken to a building close to the House of the Stars.
‘Soon, possibly tomorrow, you will be visited by the Supreme Astronomers.’
Drimus the Doctrinator was forced to clench his soul in his fists in order not to show his fury. There was nothing he could do for the moment. Nothing but accept the order and wait. Wait until he had in front of him those who called themselves Supreme Astronomers, the descendants of the ones who had betrayed the Magic of the North. Drimus knew how to dig, to gnaw; he knew where it was hard and where it was soft. It would be easy for him to transform Bor and Zabralkán into two feeble old men who would fling open the doors of the House of the Stars for him.
‘At least receive the gifts we have brought,’ said Drimus.
‘We cannot do that either,’ he was told.
The Doctrinator wanted to know where they were to be taken. The building they pointed out was a grey pyramid, its base covered in red and blue figures.
The strangers climbed back on their mounts and set off, closely watched by the warriors. Drimus looked back to
wards the House of the Stars just as the doors closed behind the Supreme Astronomers and their retinue. He lowered his head to hide his expression, and began to whisper a litany forbidden to ordinary understanding. Slow incantations known only to the Wizards of the Ancient Lands ...
22
ALONG THE PATHS OF THE FERTILE LANDS
In those days, two armies were advancing through the Fertile Lands. They did so along well-established paths and those long since abandoned; if necessary, they did not hesitate to hack new ones.
Both armies were marching towards Beleram and a clash with each other. A mighty war was fought when they met. The survivors waited until they had recovered sufficient calm to record these events and tell of them. When at last they could do so, they talked of streams of blood flowing down to the sea, of dead men burying dead men, of a lament heard for countless years. The Sideresians were coming from the north. Kupuka and the Husihuilke warriors from the south. The one to lay waste to Beleram. The other to defend it.
As the armies advanced, the shadow of a Wizard from the Ancient Lands darkened Beleram. But above all, it was the truth that lay under a dark shadow, so that the Supreme Astronomers could not recognize it.
From the north, the Sideresians. From the south, the Husihuilkes. And in between them, the House of the Stars, which could not see what was happening, because its gaze was turned inward on itself and the strangers shut up in the grey pyramid.
After the Doctrinator’s three ships had left, the greater part of the Sideresian fleet continued on its way, intending to come to shore at different points on the coast to the north of Beleram. Their aim was to cut off the paths between one people and another so that they could not come to each other’s aid. It would be a simple matter to overwhelm them, and then to fling their remains against the House of the Stars. ‘Beleram buried under a mountain of dead bodies,’ as Drimus liked to boast.
During the time the Doctrinator was being kept in the grey pyramid, Leogrós’s fleet was reaching the coast.
The Husihuilke warriors had made a rapid advance and were almost halfway through the desert. From there on, things became more difficult. At night, attacks by the Pastors became increasingly frequent. The men of the desert raided without warning, then quickly retreated, protected by the contours of the wastelands they knew so well. The outcome of these brief skirmishes was not encouraging. Not simply because each nightly attack took its toll on the Husihuilke army, but because they slowed its advance.
And Beleram knew nothing of this! In the city and surrounding villages everyone went back to their daily tasks with reluctance, as if they realized that the strangers’ arrival was not just of concern to the Astronomers but also affected their own small lives.
Zabralkán and Bor went daily to the grey pyramid, always accompanied by the other members of the Council. All except Molitzmós, who had been informed of the change of plans and remained on the shore guarding the ships. One, two, three days had passed since the arrival of the Sideresians in the city of Beleram. By now Drimus was on the point of fulfilling his mission: it was no coincidence he was Misáianes’ chosen one. That night, for example, he was repeating to the Supreme Astronomers the same warnings the Northmen had given in that same city when the sun had been five hundred years younger. He repeated them word for word, without making a single mistake. All those who heard him were entranced, because the Wizard had the gift of enchantment.
The same night as Drimus was deceiving his audience by repeating the Northmen’s words, a column of Sideresians was disembarking on the southern side of the Border Hills. Their ships moored in a cove where the jungle came down to the sea. Near by, the Offspring of the Stalkers of the Sea were sleeping peacefully under their palm-leaf roofs, in small family villages: Red of the Gourds, Red of the Fishermen, Small Red and, some way off, Distant Red. The descendants of the Northmen rested in jute hammocks whose swaying helped them dream of the sea. In their dreams, men, women and children were crossing the Yentru Sea back to the continent of the Fathers, and finally understanding where the colour of their eyes and hair came from. Lulled as they were by the high seas of their dreams, they did not hear the stealthy footsteps approaching their houses, or the gloved hands drawing back the flaps that served as doors to their huts. Small groups of Sideresians entered the palm huts, every single hut in every single village of the Offspring. Their glittering weapons slashed at the sleepers’ dreams. Some managed to wake up before they died. Most preferred to go on dreaming that it was water from the Yentru that was soaking their tunics. At dawn, the hammocks were swaying with blue-eyed corpses.
Some hours later, the time it took the sunlight to move from the Yentru coast to the shores of the Lalafke, the Husihuilke army was preparing for another day’s march. They had just thrown the body of a dead young warrior into the sea to save him from the desecration the Pastors would inflict on his remains. Kupuka sang the song that would accompany the young hero on his journey. Then they left him behind, because there were still many more nights to come in their desert crossing. And each would bring its harvest of death.
That same dawn, the one of the Offspring’s last dream, the one of the young warrior being thrown into the sea, Zabralkán was observing an uneasy sky that changed each time he gazed at it. The Supreme Astronomer realized this situation could not last. Bor made little effort to hide his disagreement with the decision to keep the strangers away from the House of the Stars. Bor had no doubts: Drimus was a brother who had come in the name of other brothers.
None of the other representatives had opposed Zabralkán’s decision. None of them, through what they either said or did not say, regretted the choice the Supreme Astronomer had made without consulting them. On the contrary, some seemed to rely on it. Despite this, Zabralkán was aware that the reclusion of the strangers was going on for too long, based on nothing more than his fears. What was wrong? Zabralkán could give no answer. Where did his spine-chilling dread come from? The strangers had arrived, and nothing terrible had happened. Why therefore was his soul so opposed to them? Zabralkán’s thoughts had the feverish lucidity of someone who had not slept for nights.
The fact was that Zabralkán was the Supreme Astronomer of the House of the Stars. Even though Drimus wielded his centuries-old science in the service of Evil, Zabralkán felt a stabbing pain inside him that he could not and would not ignore.
The previous night, as always happened when he was in the presence of Drimus, Zabralkán’s fears had evaporated. Even the stranger’s appearance, which he recalled as that of a slimy little man with two overlong arms sticking out from his hunchback torso, changed when he was in the same room. On those occasions, Drimus’s ugliness seemed to become legendary. He was not so much ugly as a weary scholar exhausted by his roaming through the Ages. Yet once Zabralkán was far from Drimus, his doubts assailed him once more. Whose voice was it foretelling death and desolation? It sounded like a remote echo reaching him from the depths of a cave. The Astronomer tried his utmost to understand what it was saying, but the echo was covered by the sounds of the world outside. What death did the voice mean? What desolation ...? Through the window, the morning star found the Astronomer pacing up and down the observatory. ‘Come to my aid, brother star,’ Zabralkán implored him.
Far from there, the abandoned ports of the north were filled with noise. And the marks of unleashed hounds in search of food were soon to be seen on lands uninhabited for so many years. The fish-women, some of whom were passing close by on their way to Sad Island, concealed themselves behind a high promontory and saw what was going on. ‘Let us swim south,’ they said. ‘We must tell the Astronomers what we have seen,’ they said. ‘We must tell everyone.’ But an attack by carnivorous fish, unheard of in such cold waters, meant the fish-women could not reach their destination, and had to swim into deep waters, pursued by the predators.
A wind from the jungle, one of those moist, hot winds that herald wet evenings, decided to visit the Offspring’s villages. It liked to see the red
heads, who laughed when it blew in their faces, and came as often as it could. The wind was in a playful mood. It searched for tresses to undo and tunics to ruffle, but could not find any. The villages were deserted: there were no children threading seashells, or women cleaning fish. The wind pushed its way in through the flaps of the dwellings. Inside all it discovered were dead tresses and dead tunics stretched out on hammocks that barely stirred when it blew in. Horrified, the wind set off in the direction of Beleram with the sad news. But although it travelled in great haste, it never reached its destination. Before it could do so, another wind unknown in that region blocked its path and cut it to shreds.
In the other half of the continent, the Husihuilkes continued their advance, killing and dying each night. Whenever a dawn bird passed close by, Kupuka urged it to fly to Beleram with the news. Later he found out that none of them had arrived. Many people said they had seen lost birds flying round and round in circles, without finding a direction to head in.
The Days of the Deer Page 18