by John O.
Raiden Ni was once again seated in the inn by the shipping port on the east shore. Unlike most in the room, he was not concerned about the news of the Ishe’s death. Since the Sentor brought the news, the inn had been bustling with discussions and deliberations as to who was behind the assassination and why. What weighed on him, however, was that the link with the Spyinmes in Norwaland had run completely cold. Was it possible that they had all run into hiding as a result of some decree by the King? What if their identities had been discovered and the King had rounded them up for questioning? Or perhaps, had they all been terminated by the King? Considering the manner in which the information progressively dwindled over the course of the last month, it was likely the latter was the case. It was probably best to assume they had all been killed. With no information on the plans of that aggressive nation, Lionea was in a more precarious position than these revelers realized, Raiden thought. He would have to visit the HN on the morrow to inform him of this development. Resigned, he took a swig from his cup and proceeded to fill it with more wine.
“How come you don’t seem bothered by the Ishe’s passing? Instead you sit here and drink as if to celebrate his death,” came the voice of a drunken sailor.
“My actions have nothing to do with the Ishe’s death. I simply drink to satisfy my thirst for wine. Unlike the rest of you, I am not concerned about life or death. Rather than waste precious time on grieving for the dead who care not for the living, I enjoy my life as I please.”
“You must be mad. You did not even flinch when the news was announced. Perhaps you knew of it before? Or you are somehow involved in the plot that ended his life?”
“Watch it sailor. You tread dangerous grounds with your careless words,” Raiden replied.
Incensed, the sailor threw a punch at Raiden who barely dodged in surprise. The sailor attempted to launch another attack. This time however, Raiden was prepared and immediately countered with a debilitating forearm block. In time, the inn degenerated into a fracas as others joined in. Raiden managed to wriggle himself out of the fray and depart the inn shortly after. As he mounted his horse, he thought to himself, Our death begins the very moment we are conceived. Irrespective of wealth and social status, we all live a dying life. Why then, are people so surprised and sad whenever a mortal dies, despite knowing fully well that death is imminent for all? Shaking his head, he kicked his horse and rode off into the night.
Set sat alone on what had become his corner of the deck of The Blue Whale. His companions had retired to their cabin for the night, leaving him to observe the full moon alone.
“Hello again.”
Startled, he turned around to see the one called Jessamine standing behind him with a smile.
“You sure know how to sneak up on people. I have been waiting to give you your painting,” he replied.
“I didn’t want to approach you while that lecherous companion of yours was around.”
“You mean Sin?” Set laughed “Pay him no mind, dear one. Now here is your painting.”
She received the canvas, unrolled it to admire herself once more, and then rolled it up as she thanked Set once again.
“Anything for a beautiful woman like you,” Set replied.
“Don’t think I’ll fall for a man with a sweet tongue. It may work for other girls my age, but it won’t work on me.”
Set laughed aloud and said, “You really are an interesting one. And I am only being honest when I say that I have taken a real liking to you.”
“Just as you took a real liking to all the women you’ve bedded?” Jessamine smiled at the flirtatious man.
“Why no. You are the only woman I’ve ever said that to. Do you mind telling me about yourself?”
“If you wish to hear about my boring life… My father and mother are both healers. Unlike me, they are introverts who prefer a quiet lifestyle. They however love me very much, for they would not have tolerated me as well as they have if they didn’t love me. I have always loved being outdoors. As a Stude, that is a trainee security operative, I spent much of my time with friends. My parents worried that I may have become promiscuous, but in truth, I was and am still celibate. I once wanted to become a Spyinme, an elite female security group which worked directly under the greatest man on the Island, HN Ruki Sen. I also have a sister who I have not spoken to in ten years…”
“Wow ten years? That is an awful long time to be out of touch with your own sister.”
“Well, it can’t be helped. She singlehandedly prevented me from becoming a spy. Instead of recommending me, my own sister disparaged me instead. As a result of her account, the HN refused to appoint me into the elite group. That is how I ended up becoming a Sentor. In retrospect however, I think I prefer this lifestyle.”
“Interesting. Have you no brothers?”
“In truth yes, but in principle, no. If I saw my brother right now, I am not sure I would recognize him. This is because he left our home for the temple when I was just a year old. He visited a few times but I did not bother trying to know him. He is a great disappointment as far as I’m concerned. I can just see him hiding in the temple when his peers are winning wars.”
Set laughed as he interjected, “Your brother will always be your brother. You should at least get to know him. Meanwhile, you mean to tell me you are still a maiden? How old are you?”
“Twenty four!”
“Twenty four? Why, you look much younger than your age. How is it that you’re not wed? Men must be after you like flies.”
Jessamine laughed at his frankness before replying, “Indeed I have had my fair share of suitors but I was never interested in any of them. In the past, there was a man who caught my fancy but−−”
“Jessamine. It is time,” came the voice of another Sentor who stood a few meters off.
“That is my patrol leader. I must leave now,” she said and turned to leave.
“Goodnight, Jessamine.”
“Good night, Set” she smiled in return as she walked away.
DAY 3
18
Surita Stone admired her repaired face in front of the mirror in Sido’s room. She was still not entirely comfortable with the magic used to restore her looks, for she was certain there had to be negative side effects. It was just past the Crow’s Hour and the Nimusha village had come alive with the new day. She had earlier asked Osaio why the Icasa generally preferred to work at night and rest during the day. If Osaio’s reply could be believed, it wasn’t so much because of a cultural preference. Instead, it was generally how they initially avoided crossing paths with the settlers when they first arrived the Island. Gradually, it became habit, and then an eventual way of life.
Despite Surita’s protests, Sido had convinced her it was best to depart at this hour. He reasoned that if they moved when everyone else was usually indoors, it would raise too many bells. Fearful of intruders, the people were sure to lynch them should they be discovered at that hour. Reaching for a scarf that Osaio provided, Surita’s mind returned to the episode that revealed her colleague, Loila, to be somehow connected to the events that led to her near capture. It was known that Loila had Icasa roots through her mother. Osaio’s revelation must mean that in some way, Loila was involved with some brewing plot by the Nukamchi. Since the plot stimulated the preemptory senses implanted in the Nimusha, it followed that the conspiracy somehow involved an aggressive bid for power. Thinking about it now, Loila was running reconnaissance during the mission to the Ispris compound. She must have somehow informed her co-conspirators on our itinerary, Surita reasoned as she once again felt a visceral surge of anger and pain at the loss of her colleague, Ziri Lenny. She preferred to think that Julya Rose was still alive somewhere. What baffled her was what connection the three of them may have with the plot. She had mulled over it for almost two hours now and nothing concrete was immediately evident to her.
“Surita, its time.”
She had been so engrossed in thought that she hadn’t seen Sido come up behind
her, despite his reflection in the mirror. Sighing, she replied, “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this. We should wait till dawn.”
“Don’t tell me you are still undecided on this. We don’t have much time,” he said as he delicately helped her up the chair. The way he held her and looked into her eyes made her feel so safe that she forwent all objections.
“Don’t forget to guise yourself with the scarf mother gave you.”
Realizing the scarf was still in her palm, she donned it like a true Nimushan and said a silent prayer within.
“Be safe, you two. Surita, I have enjoyed your short stay with me. I hope we will see each other sometime,” Osaio Minabi said as she emerged through the door.
“With those arts of yours, I am certain you will see me again, whether or not I come in person,” Surita managed to joke.
“Indeed, I will,” Osaio replied with a knowing smile.
“Alright mother, we must be on our way. See you soon,” Sido was growing impatient and as he had intended, his comment brought the goodbyes to a quick end as he and Surita departed the house unto the dark street.
Tisamp, first son of the Norwan King, found that he could not sleep, despite having lain on his bed for almost three hours. The thought that he was no longer heir apparent plagued his mind. How could his father have done that? I am the first son. The first son for heaven’s sake! he repeatedly thought with rage. It was then that an idea to spit on his father struck him. With sudden purpose, he stood up, donned his black cloak and made his way out of the room.
Although he was a prince, what he was about to do could damn him, if he was discovered. As a result, he took extra care to avoid the guards as he proceeded towards his destination. To his dismay, upon arriving at the door, he heard sounds that suggested the serving wench was in the middle of the act he was about to commit. Could his father stoop so low that he did not summon her to his room? Was he now so desperate that he came down to the servants quarters? Curiosity got the better of him, causing him to open the door slightly to have a look.
As Tisamp beheld, his brother seemed to have beat him to it. The serving girl lay helplessly as Schneel defiled her. An inadvertent gasp from Tisamp caused the girl to look towards the door.
“Focus on me, wench!” roared Schneel who didn’t understand how she was still able to get distracted amidst his manhood.
Tisamp, who had regained himself, spoke, “Perhaps you are too little to satisfy her. Make way for a real man.”
Schneel was stupefied, “Tisamp! What are you doing here?”
“Nothing for now. But I am about to do exactly what you’re doing, although I prefer a different... method.”
“You devious bastard. Defiling father’s whore is your way at getting back at his stupid declaration isn’t it? I wonder why we always think alike.”
Tisamp laughed as he shut the door behind him. He hurriedly doffed his clothes and walked towards the pair.
“Easy soldier. Why don’t you allow us to readjust to accommodate a skunk like you?” Schneel said as he lifted the girl from the floor and pushed her to the bed.
“Pplleasee, don’t do this. I don’t want this. Your ffatherr will…”
A blinding slap tore across the face of the poor girl. “My father will what?! Does one like you have a say in a matter like this? Shut your mouth, you whore!” Schneel continued his act with such intensity that tears trickled down the girl’s face.
“Schneel. Must you always be so crude? Let me show you how to please a woman.”
The two men remained with her for nearly two hours before departing, leaving her unconscious and near death. If they hadn’t been so engrossed, they would have noticed the footsteps of the guards who gathered at the door and listened to the entire episode.
The streets of the Nimushan village didn’t seem so eerie any longer. Children played in the open, taverns bustling and even ladies of the night came out in full splendor. Surita was amazed at the transformation. These people were not so different after all, she thought as she held Sido’s arm in attempt to lend more credence to their wandering couple act. What made the journey dangerous was the fact that xenophobia was an essential part of this community. Sido had a hard time growing up here, having being born within province gates before his mother moved him out here. To be found wandering the streets with a woman of the gates would spell danger for even him. For this reason, their muscles were tense as they moved about.
There was however another reason for their tightened muscles. Having to walk so close to each other, the strength of the attraction they felt was amplified; so amplified that it made them both uncomfortable. Surita couldn’t believe she was falling for the over-protective care-free man who remained alert for any sign of trouble. She felt more safe around him than she should, for as a Spyinme, she was taught to rely only on herself in times like this.
“Hey is that you Sido?” came the voice of a man who walked towards the pair.
“Ah, Ronoa. How fares it with you?”
“Bah! You and your fancy tongue. Don’t act all high and mighty with me. Who is this?” the man replied and gestured towards Surita whose face was hidden in the scarf.
“She’s a friend of mother’s,” Sido improvised, hoping that the use of his mother would help to ward off further questions.
“Your mother’s still trying to aid your search for a wife? The old vixen never quits now, does she?”
“Refer to my mother with some respect, Ronoa. But yes, you know how she is.”
“Perhaps I can help you assess this one, if you’ll join me for a drink.”
“Too early for that. Besides, I can assess for myself. Look Ronoa, I must be on my way now.”
“Fine. But where are you going? Must be close by since you are without a horse.”
“Yes it is. See you around, Ronoa,” Sido smiled as he forced an end to the discussion. Briskly walking away, they did not give him the chance to reply.
“It appears your mother is desperate for you to wed,” Surita commented.
“The old woman can be very dogged when she sets her mind to an objective. Alas, I have proven to be even more dogged at refusing to fall to her schemes,” he laughed before continuing. “What about you? Have you considered wedding?”
“I don’t recall informing you or your mother about my status. There’s no telling whether or not I have a husband even as we speak.”
“If you had a husband, perhaps your heart wouldn’t beat so wildly whenever I look into your eyes.”
Surita almost cursed the man for his candor. Did her heart really beat that much? So he knew all along that she had begun to fancy him.
“You flatter yourself,” she managed before retreating to herself. This man must have bed so many women to be this confident in himself. Who’s to say whether or not he will use me as scum if I give in to him? I cannot afford to take any stupid risks, she thought. For if she fell for this man and he failed to wed her, she would lose her eligibility to remain a Helesp Spyinme. Her brief stint in the woods had shown her just how tough things could get in the field. No. She would not take any risks, she concluded.
“Surita, we must hitch a chariot ride to the other end of the town. That way, we can remain by ourselves in the cart and attract little attention,” Sido said.
“Where exactly will the ride take us?”
“To the edge of the town, as I said. From there, it is all woods again until the Main Farm. There’s a dirt road through the woods though, so we should be able to manage ourselves well.”
“Shouldn’t we ride a horse through? Perhaps we can purchase one at the end of the town?”
“Heavens no! The Nimusha men who deal with the farmers do not normally ride horses. They are too poor for that. To use a horse there will set off too many bells.”
“Then why don’t we buy one now as opposed to using the chariot? The longer we lurk around, the higher the chances of getting into trouble!” Surita was perplexed.
“I thought my mot
her told you of how the Nimusha form a bond with their animals. If we were to buy one, the dealer will want to determine that we will not use the animal in a wicked manner before agreeing to sell. To determine this, he will need to use his arts. If he uses his arts, he will discover that you are not one of us. I know these people. Your best bet is to follow my lead.”
“Whatever you say, master,” Surita replied with a note of sarcasm. Shaking his head, Sido beckoned her along to the stop where other passengers awaited a chariot.
“How long will the journey take?”
“The chariot tends to be a little slow as result of the many stops it makes along the way. We should expect to be on it for about two hours.”
“That means we will begin our journey through the words about two hours before the Hen’s Hour? Disappointing! I was hoping it would take longer in order for dawn to break before we begin that treacherous trek.”
Oracion was alone in the room and found that she could not sleep. Not that she usually slept as most people did but, tonight, sleeping was particularly difficult. It was a good thing she had a lot of information about the Rangelica to ponder. Earlier, she had only skipped to the part that discussed the abilities of one who possessed it. Now that she had time, she decided to find out about its origin.
As she skimmed through the information, she discovered something shocking; the Rangelica was not the only spirit running lose in Lionea. For some inexplicable reason, the Icasa found themselves coexisting with spirits that inhabited human hosts. One who possessed any such spirit was imbued with powers that transcended the natural. Others who descended, either directly or indirectly, from one who possessed a spirit also manifested supernatural powers. Little wonder why a typical Icasa human was beyond the ordinary.