“That’s easy to understand,” said Kark, “but what are you going to do with your newfound freedom now?”
“I haven’t actually thought about that,” she replied. “All my relatives passed away long ago, and my people probably consider me to be an undesirable outsider.”
“If you want to, you can come along with us until you’ve had a chance to think about things.”
“Thank you, but first I’d like to know why you are dressed as Sylvanians?”
“Sure, but it’s a long story.”
“No problem. Time is not something I have in short supply.”
“OK,” said Kark, and proceeded to tell her their tale. When she had finished, Enaiga wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and said she had nothing better to do and would be pleased to continue with them.
“Welcome, then, to our small but continually growing little group. We have a few items of clothing that will probably fit you, but nothing for the soldiers, unfortunately.”
“Sylvanians clothes of the right kind will probably be difficult to find in this area,” said Kark. “When we’ve found some horses and wagons, the soldiers can stay hidden under the canopies, and if we’re unlucky enough to meet a Glennian patrol before that, they can pretend to be our jailers.”
“How did it go for you in the Blackwarj forest, anyway?” Enaiga asked the soldiers. “I’m surprised that you got as far as you did. The forest is usually especially vicious against those who enter with weapons and especially if they are soldiers.”
“Yes, it certainly wasn’t a vacation,” said Kioppi. “Most of our comrades were struck down within a few hours of our entering the forest, by trees that suddenly came alive and gobbled us up almost as if we were food.”
“That’s exactly what they became.”
“What do you mean?” asked Anderika. “Trees don’t subsist on meat!”
“Yes, these trees do, since once upon a time they were people, before they were transformed into trees by a magic spell. First, they keep their catch alive for a while, since they are alone and like to have company, but when they weaken and are dying, they take their souls and empty their bodies of all nourishment.”
“So horrible!”
“Maybe so, but trees also must survive, like everything else. Nature is often cruel and, of course, it’s eat, or be eaten. When we cut down a tree, we don’t waste a thought on whether there’s anything wrong with that.”
“Then our buddy, Bortilly, was luckier, since he was kidnapped by three dancing women,” said Kioppi.
“Well, I don’t think so,” said Enaiga, “since it was the Mitis witch sisters that he met.”
“Who are they?”
“Who knows. Blackwarj Forest is as old as the world, and I only know a part of its essence, even though I’ve lived in it for hundreds of years. Maybe they were women who were put under a spell when they became lost in the forest, or perhaps something else.”
“But what did they want?”
“To dance with him until he died of exhaustion. The entire forest is full of lost creatures looking for a soul to occupy.”
“Well, I really think we should stay out of there from now on!”
“Yes, at least if you value your lives and your souls.”
Kark and Kioppi managed to shoot two rabbits before darkness fell, which they skinned and roasted on an open fire. As they sat and ate, the sun sank slowly into the east over the small pond they’d camped beside. The rays of the setting sun sparkled on the water, and when it eventually became dark and wrapped itself around them like a black velvet blanket, it was so silent that it felt eerie and overwhelming.
The dawn danced through the spindly tree branches above them. After breaking camp, they followed a path for a few hours, until they found themselves completely out of the forest and in an open landscape of broad flowery meadows. Bediz was unable to say more about their location than that they were probably north of the Blackwarj Forest and in the kingdom of Lonnian. When they stopped for a well-deserved lunch break in a little swatch of trees, they figured they’d walked at least twenty kilometres. As soon as they’d finished, Kark stood and encouraged them to get moving again.
“Already?” said Kioppi, who had almost fallen asleep.
“Yes, time flies when you’re having fun,” answered Kark.
“Or when one is tired,” said Zania. “I’d like to catch up on my sleep all afternoon.”
“Same here,” said Gondar.
“Resting is something one can do in one’s grave,” laughed Allur.
“We don’t know anything about that,” said Anderika, seriously. “Maybe our souls are part of an eternal cycle, without end.”
“No, no, everything has an end,” said Gondar, firmly.
“Except for a sausage, which has two,” sniggered Pilgar.
“Well, that may be so,” said Kark, “but one thing I know for sure is that we have a long way to travel, still, which is why I think we should get moving.”
As the afternoon wore on, they began to pass fields and houses, until eventually they spied a village in the distance. They stopped on a tree-covered hilltop to discuss what they should do.
“This is as close as we can come without raising suspicion,” said Bediz, “so I propose that Allur and I walk there and try to obtain some horses and wagons.”
“Don’t you think it’ll seem strange that two Sylvanians suddenly pop up out of nowhere wanting to do business?” asked Enaiga.
“Do you think so?” asked Bediz, scratching his neck.
“Absolutely and, among Sylvanians, it’s usually the women who take care of business, while the men just sit around with their arms folded, which is why I should also come along. It’s also wise if there are at least five of us, so that the villagers understand there’ll be a price to pay if they try to rob us.”
“Do you have any suggestion for how we can explain that we’re arriving on foot?” asked Kark.
“Yes, we can say that we were left in the lurch after a quarrel with our clan.”
“Alright, that sounds reasonable, and since strong muscles may prove decisive, I suggest that everyone who has Sylvanians clothes comes along.”
While the soldiers were allowed to wait in the shelter of the dense bushes, the others left for the village. When they arrived, they found it a confusion of houses and narrow lanes. The inhabitants looked at them curiously, but no one bothered with them. Eventually they reached a large, crowded market square. Their business dealings went smoothly, thanks to Enaiga’s lead, so that within a few hours they were able to leave the village with two large covered wagons and draft horses, as well as riding horses, supplies and equipment, as well as four small piglets.
“Sylvanians often raise pigs, feeding them scraps and rubbish, in a large box at the back of their wagons,” explained Enaiga, “which when times are bad become emergency rations.”
Once they had painted the wagons in traditional Sylvanians red, they discussed who would ride the horses and who would sit in the wagons. Then, with a loud crack of the whip, Kark announced it was time to leave. They set off slowly down the road, winding between wide fields waving gently in the breeze. For a long while they were uncertain whether it was the right road, but when they arrived at a larger road late in the afternoon, Bediz shouted out with pleasure that he recognised it, and that within a day or two they should arrive in Manger.
They finally set camp beside a small wood, letting the horses wander out to graze, and enjoying the peaceful surroundings. Later, when the fire was crackling comfortingly in the dark, Kark asked Enaiga to tell them more about herself and her background.
“It was so long ago that I’ve almost forgotten it all,” she answered, while wiping her tears. “I was born in a wagon along the Trakian coast, where I grew up with my two younger brothers. Our father, Urgang, who was a Zet master, had high status because of his position, so that we were rather well off. Shortly after my eighteenth birthday, however, a power struggle broke out,
which led to the assassination of Chief Mozark. My parents and others who were close to him realised that they would soon be in trouble, so they fled with their families immediately. The new chief was not satisfied with that, though. He assembled a large force to destroy us, and since we weren’t able to travel so quickly, they were soon at our heels. Finally, the only way to escape them was to enter the Blackwarj Forest, which led to tears and despair. When faced with two evils, one is forced to choose the lesser of them, so that once in the forest we were surrounded by a brooding silence, which did not bode well. We rode as fast as we could in the hope of emerging on the other side before dark, but were eventually forced to stop when it had become too dark to continue. As we set up camp, the women read oaths and incantations, in the hope that it would protect us, while the men lit fires. None of it helped me much, since I was kidnapped in the early morning hours by a witch’s soul, which entered my body, and the rest you already know.”
“How long were you imprisoned in the forest?” asked Zania.
“I’m not sure. Probably four, or even five, hundred years. In any case, it was entirely too long.”
“So obviously we should be extremely happy to have gotten out of there with our lives,” said Kark, and shivered as he swept his blanket around him.
“That’s entirely correct, and I’d rather die than go in there again.”
“What happened to your family and the others you were travelling with?” asked Anderika.
“Sylvanians possess a number of special qualities, including a few that are occult, so they probably succeeded in getting through the forest, since I never saw any trace of them there.”
“And what’s your background, Allur?” asked Zania, after a moment’s silence.
“Are you sure you want to know?” he asked, with a mischievous smile.
“Yes, as I’m sure we all do.”
“Alright, if you insist, then. I was born in Asturia, in the city of Lezad, where my father was the Grand Duke Monza and my mother was Kesnada, of the House of Grinadin.”
“Is that true?” sputtered Zania, surprised.
“Upon the honour of my father and mother, yes.”
“I thought you had a rather aristocratic way about you.”
“Is that so? Well, the zebra never loses its stripes, they say. My future was dashed to pieces, however, when an aerial combat fleet, from Azur, attacked us at dawn. Our defence forces did what they could, but they were so overpowering that they merely played cat and mouse with us and, when they were finished, they simply took whatever they wanted, which included my sister and I.”
“What happened to her?” wondered Anderika.
“No idea; the only thing I know is that I nearly died of sadness once we had been separated.”
“And your parents?”
“They’re both dead. When they refused to give up, they were fired on and they died in a mortar explosion.”
“But why didn’t you tell the Azurians who you were? They would certainly have let you go.”
“No, hardly. Nothing gives them greater enjoyment than taking the lives of foreign aristocrats. If our parents hadn’t dressed us in simple clothes and hidden us out in the country, with a farmer, I wouldn’t be standing here today.”
“But why? Are they really so horrible?”
“Like all living things, they have both good and bad qualities. In their home environment they surely try to be good and courteous, but while among other cultures they express their cruelness as if they were on a big game safari.”
“Maybe this is part of our double nature, well-hidden deep within the reptilian part of our brain, which evolved thousands of years ago, and must have been useful for our species to survive. From the point of view of survival, it must be good, in certain situations, to be to disconnect more noble thoughts and let the primitive and bestial take over.”
“I can’t believe I have a reptilian brain.”
“Oh, yes, we all do, it’s just that some of us have a little more of it than others.”
Eventually, their tiredness got the better of them, so they fell asleep in a close circle around the fire, worried that evil spirits would come and take their souls.
Another dawn, with its brilliant sun rising red on the horizon, and they were off again. After having travelled for a few hours through a barren landscape that had a fresh smell of heather and moor, they were caught in a sudden downpour that forced them to take shelter, although it ended almost as soon as it started. On a high rise they stopped to check their route. Gondar, after having peered intensively in all directions, turned and pointed excitedly. A few moments later, they all could see what he had seen: a band of dark colours against the horizon, with haze above it, which couldn’t be anything else than the city of Manger. Quickened by this discovery, they hurried onwards, spurring their horses to move as fast as they could, in the hope of reaching the city by nightfall.
They had earlier decided that the soldiers, in order to avoid attracting attention, would hide outside the city, while the others would spend the night in an inn, and then proceed to replenish their supplies. As so often happens, even the best laid plans fail, and this was no exception. Just as they were in sight of Manger, and were about to turn off the road to enter an isolated wood, they saw a cavalry troop approaching. When they arrived, their commanding officer, a tall, thin woman wearing a black cape and an elegant hat, raised her hand in greeting and asked, in a language that was reminiscent of Glennian, but with a strong accent, who their leader was.
Normally, in Sylvania, women participate actively in business and public life, but in front of foreigners, it is always men that represent them. Enaiga had thus thoroughly prepared Allur for such a situation, which is why he now stepped forward and presented himself as the chief.
“And what is your business in Manger?” she asked, holding tight to the reins of her unruly horse.
“We are going there to trade,” answered Allur.
“If you don’t mind, we are going to escort you there, so please follow us,” she ordered, whereupon she and the troop set off with rattling swords and tinkling spurs.
Kark realised that they would probably be exposed once they arrived in the city, and cursed the fact that he hadn’t been smart enough to hide the soldiers or persevered in finding Sylvanians clothes for them. After considering the available alternatives, she finally decided that it was best to hide them in the pig sty, and hope that it wouldn’t be inspected too closely.
“Our clothes are going to be soaked in pig manure!” protested Skeonar.
“Well then you’ll just have to take off your rags and put them in a bag,” she said, shrilly. “Hurry up now, we can’t waste any time!”
They reluctantly did as they were told and crawled, moaning, through the wagons tight entrance, one at a time, their posteriors bare in the open air, and then Kark threw in the bag after them and closed the hatch. At first the pigs squealed and grunted loudly, but soon they seemed to have gotten used to the situation, and before long they were quiet. Kark guessed that they had patted them until they had quietened them down, which would certainly be important if they were going to avoid discovery.
After being escorted to the gates of the city, they were stopped by two guards, who happily didn’t bother to search their wagons very thoroughly. They seemed satisfied with merely sticking their heads in the entryways, so that a few moments later they were inside the city. They followed the main street a while, then decided to stop at a little inn, the Red Hunter, where a stable boy quickly saw to their horses and parked their wagons in a shed.
“Those poor guys who have to spend the entire night in those boxes,” said Zania, once they had negotiated their stay with the innkeeper and gathered in Kark’s room.
“Well, it would have been a lot worse for them if they had been arrested by the guards,” said Bediz. “Now they’ll have the chance to learn about the everyday life of pigs and their own true nature, which might be a valuable experience.”
/> “Yes, and they might become vegetarians as a result, too,” laughed Kark.
“And what are we going to do?” asked Neiger. “Go out and get to know the town, perhaps?”
“No, I strongly recommend that we don’t,” said Enaiga. “In such a large city there’s always the chance there’ll be someone who sees through our disguise, and if we’re really unlucky we may even meet some real Sylvanians. I suggest we keep a low profile, and that Allur and I do the shopping early tomorrow morning, while the rest wait here for us.”
No one protested, since they were all so tired, so that once they had dined on a huge meal of meat and potatoes, washed down with a few steins of refreshing beer, it wasn’t long before they had called it a night, and went off to bed.
CHAPTER 21
The next day, Allur and Enaiga went off into the crowded streets and soon arrived at the town centre and its market square, which was lined by colourful timbered buildings. The air was full of musty smells, and even though it was early, there was much activity. When they had purchased a supply of dried foods and various trading goods – costume jewellery, textiles, tobacco, honey, and so on – they concluded their rounds with buying some clothes for the soldiers. Satisfied, they took their time meandering back to the inn, where they proceeded to eat a solid lunch with the others. Then they loaded the wagons and departed for the city gates. They waited on pins and needles for the guards to finish checking their wagons. This was a much more thorough check, and to their horror watched as the guards even opened the hatches to the pig sty, which was too dark for them to see much.
At last they were allowed to proceed; once they were out of sight of the city limits, they finally released the soldiers from their forced confinement.
“Now you are finer than all of us,” said Enaiga, when they had washed in a stream beside the road and dressed in their new clothes.
“It’s only right, after everything they’ve had to go through,” said Zania.
Loria Page 20