Conflict

by Pedro Urvi

  Iruki looked at him again: “Is that what you want to be?” she spat out. “Is that what your soul asks you to be?”

  “Whatever I want isn’t important any more. It’s too late for me. What I am cannot be changed, I can’t undo the past. I can’t give back the lives I’ve taken…”

  “That’s true, you can’t change the past the way the tall grass of the plains changes color with the seasons. A hyena is a scavenger and will always be one, because it’s an animal. Man can change, you can change, the hyena of the plains can’t. You can look to the future and become a better man, redeem your faults, fill the void you feel in your soul.” Iruki was aware of the great sadness the Assassin carried inside him.

  “Your words are filled with kindness, princess of the prairies, and I appreciate them from the bottom of my heart. But there’s no possible future for a man such as I am. Evil is rooted deep in me, it’s blackened my soul beyond any possible redemption. There’s no hope…”

  “That’s not true, there’s always hope, otherwise there wouldn’t be life. You’ve already taken one step in the right direction, you saved me. Even now you go on helping me. You’ve already begun to free yourself from your inner demons. The powerful lion can’t help killing the graceful gazelle, it’s his animal instinct. But you, you can change that instinct that was instilled in you. Keep on that path and maybe one day you’ll begin to feel that your soul is at peace once again. Don’t give up now, keep fighting to redeem yourself.”

  “Thank you, Iruki Wind of the Steppes. I appreciate your good intentions. Your heart is pure, good and noble. Keep it that way if you can. Don’t allow the cold tentacles of evil to even touch the goodness of your soul. Protect it always. I’ll think about what you’ve told me today. Thank you again.” He made a slight bow.

  “Your gratitude is unnecessary. I’m not a wise person, nor have I seen much beyond my tribe and my beloved steppes, but I speak from my heart, and if my words can help you in any way, that will make me happy.”

  The Assassin smiled shyly.

  Iruki smiled in return.

  “On the other hand,” she said, intrigued, “we’ve been together quite a few days, we’ve been through a mishap or two, we’re chatting like good friends and I still don’t know your name. You’ve never told me. What is it?”

  “My name doesn’t deserve to be known, that’s why I’ve never mentioned it. A man without honor doesn’t deserve to be acknowledged, doesn’t deserve a name. You may call me Assassin because that’s what I am.”

  “All right… If that’s your wish I’ll respect it, but I must say I don’t agree. I hope the day will come when you feel you can tell me your true name.” She looked into his eyes but he looked away, ashamed.

  A silence so uncomfortable that not even the cold winds of those heights could break it rose between them. Iruki was surprised to feel a chill that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

  With a sudden bounce the Assassin got to his feet.

  “We must move on!” he said, pointing at the ledge that ran up the vertical mountain-side towards the waterfall. Iruki looked in that direction and her heart missed a beat. Her throat closed, leaving her unable to utter a sound. A line of Norghanian soldiers in their red and white war uniforms were beginning the ascent of the path, guided by a man dressed in green.

  “By the jackals of the plains!” Iruki finally managed to burst out. “Those heartless hyenas have found our trail, they’re after us. Can you see how many of them there are?”

  “I can count more than a dozen… nearly twenty,” replied the Assassin. His hand was shadowing his eyes from the sun. “But they’re too far off to be certain. There could be more. In any case they’re too many to confront, we must flee.”

  “The guide…?”

  “The Tracker, no doubt.”

  “In that case, we’d better disappear at once,” said Iruki, who was already starting to move.

  “Do you think they’ll be able to reach here? That they’ll find the hidden path?”

  “I doubt it. Only the Masig know the exact location of the pass which gives access. Identifying it is practically impossible. Only a well-trained Masig can read the almost invisible signs on the sacred rock of the mountain. As far as anyone is concerned they’re invisible… although nothing about that Tracker would surprise me. We’ve already seen his abilities at first hand. That’s why I think it’s best to go into the waterfall and hide.” Iruki pointed to the path ahead.

  “Do you mean to cross the waterfall and go up to the lake from the other end?”

  Iruki thought for a moment.

  “No, I think it’ll be better not to try the waterfall itself, but walk into the mountain instead. Inside, hidden there, is the Cave of No Return, a cursed place which my people are forbidden to set foot upon.” Iruki was absorbed in her thoughts: on the one hand she wanted to escape the relentless Tracker, but on the other she had no desire to enter the forbidden cave.

  The Assassin said somberly, “If they aren’t allowed in, it must be for a good reason.”

  She turned and looked at him. With a quavering voice she said: “The legends tell that whoever goes into that cursed cave never comes back. It’s the place where those who have tried to harm the Fountain of Life are doomed to stay for all eternity. At least that’s what my people believe.”

  “And you’re willing to go in there, defying the laws of your people?”

  “I’d rather face an accursed cave than that Tracker and his men. Besides I have a lethal Assassin with me. What could that cave use against us? Rock? We’ll hide in the Cave of No Return. There’s no other option, if we follow the path we’ll come out to the great lake of the peaks and there’s nowhere to hide there. There’s only an endless sea of blue water reaching to the sky, water and more water for leagues and leagues and leagues. We can’t hide there, the shores are practically bare.”

  The Assassin nodded in understanding.

  Iruki took the lead again.

  The two fugitives, following the path, turned into the waterfall, which appeared to swallow them in its roar. Behind the water, hidden in its shade, was an enormous cave which could not be seen from outside, completely hidden by the current of water that fell from the top. They went into it, leaving the roaring waterfall behind. Once they were deep inside, they stopped. The path continued on the other side of the mouth of the cave, going on to the summit.

  Iruki looked at it with doubt eating at her heart. She knew that going to the great lake would leave them unprotected. They would be easy prey for the Tracker and his men. There was no way out other than the one they had come through. She crouched and tried to dispel the fear she felt when she looked towards the cursed entrance. She knew it was an irrational fear born out of legends and tales told by the elders of the tribe, but she could not help herself. Something inside her told her those legends she had been listening to since she was a child had some kernel of truth in them…

  As if he could read her mind, the Assassin said: “Perhaps we won’t need to go too deep into the cursed cave. Most likely the Tracker won’t find the way up here.”

  “You’re right, he probably won’t find the way.” She relaxed a little. “Let’s keep an eye on things and if we see movement we’ll go into the depths of the cave. If not we’ll just stay here.”

  “Meanwhile I’ll gather some wood to make a torch,” said the Assassin.

  “Let’s hope it won’t be necessary,” she said with a half-smile that tried to hide her fear.

  Time went by and night fell. Iruki relaxed in the false safety of their situation. Her body and spirit needed the rest. The Assassin watched the point of access intently from her side. A strange feeling came upon her every time their eyes met. She felt uneasy in her stomach, a mixture of excitement and pleasure she had never known before. The mysterious man who had rescued her from the Norghanians was a complete enigma, a tormented soul she wanted to reach out to. Iruki discovered she wanted to read him, know him and mos
t of all help him. But the feeling turned to fear…Be wary, he’s a lethal man and an assassin, he admits it himself. Those thoughts kept her on guard but she could not help these new emotions from stirring inside her. Sleep overcame her mind. She tried to reject it, but the night was calm and she was tired, so tired… And the presence of the Assassin at her side comforted her, filled her with warmth…

  She was swallowed up in the world of dreams.

  Firm hands over her mouth and shoulder woke her. She opened her eyes, startled, and they met the slanted black eyes of her companion. He whispered in her ear, “He’s discovered it. They’re coming up. We must leave.”

  Iruki jumped to her feet at once and cursed between gritted teeth. She turned and pointed inside the cave.

  “That way,” and she lunged into it.

  Into the Cave of No Return.

  Dark Power

  The emissary knelt before the Dark Lady. Without even daring to raise his eyes to her, he stretched out the hand that held the dusty message. Isuzeni looked at his Queen: Yuzumi, sitting in a heavy marble throne which emphasized her beauty, did not even look at the emissary. She simply waved at one of her loyal Moyuki to hand her the message.

  Yuzumi broke the seal of the parchment. Her eyes read avidly, as was her custom. Her pale, beautiful face —the most astounding Isuzeni had ever seen— remained calm, like a lake of deep black water. All the same, Isuzeni detected a tiny twitch of his lady and mistress’s eye-brow. As her Royal Counselor and High Priest of the Cult of Imork, Lord of the Dead, he was alert to the slightest anomaly. Unconsciously he straightened his body, then leaned on his staff and moved away from the emissary.

  The Queen, now Empress of the whole continent of Toyomi by right of conquest and blood, cast a spell on the emissary who knelt before her with a whip-like wave of her right arm and words of power. Isuzeni recognized at once the intense, dark flash which the Empress’s power gave out. A black cloud took shape in the air and enveloped the kneeling soldier, who began to scream desperately as his body was consumed by the spell. The body of the wretched emissary began to be sucked dry until everything liquid, everything alive, had been drained from it. In a matter of seconds, what had been a healthy, vigorous body had dwindled to nothing more than a mummified silhouette. The screams went on until all life had been consumed, leaving only dried skin and bones.

  The Dark Lady snapped her fingers, her long black nails shining like her jet-black hair, and two guards removed the corpse. The poor messenger had brought bad news and had then been consumed by a necromancer’s spell of the highest level. This woman was as cruel as she was beautiful. She turned her head and fixed her eyes on Isuzeni.

  The High Priest’s heart skipped a beat. He was aware of his own danger. The Empress turned on him an inscrutable look of such force it was almost tangible. Fear and uneasiness filled him, so that he did not know what to say. He lowered his head and waited for his Mistress to address him, praying meanwhile to Imork to save him from being consumed by her overwhelming power.

  “Isuzeni…” she said in a velvet voice.

  The Priest felt a chill run down his back as if a water snake were crawling over him.

  “High Priest… I am informed that the Marked is still alive.”

  “I don’t know what could have happened. I don’t understand how he could have survived,” said the highest representative of the Cult of Imork, fully aware that his Mistress did not accept failure.

  “The news has caused me great unease, as you can well imagine.”

  Isuzeni looked at her. The brightness of her eyes showed the fury inside her, although the exquisite face remained absolutely calm.

  “What’s happened, my Lady? The task was entrusted to an agent whose success was guaranteed.”

  “That might have been the case, but despite that, success was not achieved after all.”

  “Has he survived again?” said the Priest in disbelief. He looked down at the golden skull on his fine beige silk robe.

  “Exactly. Against all odds he has survived, which although it does infuriate me in the extreme does not really surprise me. His power must be growing, and eventually it will manifest itself unmistakably.”

  “Our agent assured us that an intermediary considered to be infallible had been hired. He was offered a large sum in gold.”

  “High Priest, let me remind you that we are not dealing with a mere mountain wildling. This is the Marked, someone who is capable of attaining a power akin to my own, and that simply cannot happen. He must be eliminated at any cost.”

  “I understand, my Lady. Forgive me. It’s unfortunate that he’s been raised in the highlands. I’ve been informed that those Norriel are formidable fighters. He will have been well instructed in fighting and the art of the sword.”

  “And do you really believe that has been a coincidence?”

  “No… I’m afraid not. It has to have been deliberate and very well planned…”

  “Of course it has been well planned! Whoever took him to that remote hamlet knew very well what they were doing. They hid him away from our vigilant eyes so that we would never find him. Besides, they made sure he was well brought up and instructed. Not intellectually, perhaps, but enough to survive in case he needed to escape. That damned meddler who killed our Dark Assassins nineteen years ago planned it very well indeed.”

  “Yes, and he disappeared without leaving any trace. We never did find out what became of that dangerous, cunning rival…”

  “If we had found out the identity of the one who took the baby and eliminated all the Assassins who were after him, the Marked would already be dead and the premonition could never come true. I personally would have dragged all the information about the boy’s whereabouts out of him before devouring his soul. But then, complaining has never solved anything. We have to kill the Marked. He has come of age and the prediction will be fulfilled, we have no more time left.”

  “Is he still in Ocorum?”

  “For the moment at least.”

  “In that case our agent will deal with him, Your Majesty.”

  “How sure are you of that, Counselor?”

  “The agent is one of my best disciples, Your Majesty, and he has two acolytes from the Temple with him. The Marked won’t be able to defeat them.”

  “Are you ready to put your life at stake for the success of your disciples, High Priest of Imork?”

  “I beg clemency of you, Your Majesty. How he’s been able to survive until now is beyond my comprehension. It might be because of his power or it might be the help of his friends, but in any case they should all be dead by now, and dead they will be. If my Mistress wishes to take my life for my incompetence, she need only ask and I shall surrender it gladly.” Isuzeni put both hands over his heart and then placed palm over palm in an offering gesture toward his Lady and Mistress.

  The Empress smiled. “I see you are still a master in the art of emotions, my loyal Counselor.” Isuzeni was surprised by this, she rarely showed the least sign of pleasure. “Whenever I want to take your life, I will, at any time and without hesitation, and without asking, of course.” Her face had returned once again to its usual expression of somber hostility.

  Isuzeni kept the fear his Mistress’s words had caused him under control, trying not to appear weak, knowing she would not tolerate that particular flaw of character.

  Yuzumi remained thoughtful for a moment, and Isuzeni watched her fearfully. When the Dark Lady grew angry, the consequences were many and disastrous.

  “It is time to reveal Destiny,” she announced. “If what you propose comes true, Counselor, then the future will change: the premonition will not come true, the Marked will be dead and I will conquer the great continent of the people with round eyes. All Tremia will fall under my power. The kingdoms of the west and south will be destroyed and those of the east annexed. Nothing will get in my way. Nothing! I shall be the most powerful woman in the world! Whoever gets in my way will be destroyed. Whoever fights me will die amid
unthinkable suffering and agony.”

  “So it must and will be, my Empress.”

  “Join me in the Chamber of Destiny, Counselor, and bring the Skull with you. We shall invoke its power and see whether destiny is really that which it should be, or is still the nightmare which torments me and gives me no rest.”

  “Of course, my Mistress.” Isuzeni made a small bow.

  The Empress descended from the impressive throne. She was dressed entirely in black, with elaborate red trimming. Isuzeni could not remember ever seeing her in any other color. She wore tight body armor, black as night, which had been crafted by the best Master-Craftsman of all Toyomi. It was a unique piece, which emphasized the sensual curves of the Empress’s slender body. The material it was made of was harder than steel and a hundred times lighter. The breastplate and sides bore intricate decorative relief-work in red. A long red cloak fell from her shoulders to the ground. The mastery of the work was such that it was impossible to tell where the pieces of the tight, compact armor joined. It gave the impression of having been painted on the Empress’s body, but swords bounced off that hardened metal. It was rumored that Yuzumi had imbued the armor with the soul of the Master-Craftsman who made it, in order to give it such fantastic qualities of resistance and lightness, since the man who had created that masterpiece had never been seen again.

  Isuzeni did not know the truth about the matter, but he accepted the rumors.

  What new visions would the Skull grant them, if any? Would the ill-omened Premonition have changed, or would it still be the same?

  Unfortunately with the whimsical Skull of Destiny there was no way of telling.

  For his own sake, Isuzeni hoped something would change.

  Filled with anxiety, he left the throne hall.

  Guesses

  Only two candles on the pine-wood table and a torch on the wall lit the tiny cell in the Temple of Light. The room was bare and uncomfortable, with a cold solemnity about it. The few pieces of furniture were old and plain, the stone walls without ornament. The window-curtain was a worn length of cloth, originally white but grayish yellow at present. The Light dictated the way of sobriety and austerity, and its disciples followed this teaching.