by Licia Troisi
As Nihal read the letter she could feel the blood rushing to her head. “Your father has no right to treat you this way,” she said, holding back a torrent of anger.
Laio smiled bitterly. “He’s always treated me this way.”
“And you plan to keep on letting him? You’re not a child anymore, Laio. You need to remind him that this is your life, not his. Yours, do you understand? And if he doesn’t accept that, then to hell with him!”
Laio said nothing in response. He tightened his grip around the piece of parchment and his eyes welled with tears.
It was beyond Nihal’s comprehension. Why couldn’t Laio just suck it up and refuse his father’s absurd demands? “What do you plan to do, wait here until he comes and drags you off by the ear like some naughty kid?”
“I don’t know, okay? I don’t know!” Laio shouted suddenly. “Right now, I just need to be alone, that’s all,” he muttered.
Nihal raced to Ido’s hut.
“You have to do something. We have to help him,” she exclaimed, red in the face.
Ido kept his calm. “Actually, I plan to do absolutely nothing.”
Nihal’s resolve only hardened. After all that Laio had done for her and Ido in the past few months, she was not going to let Ido turn his back. “You’re kidding, right?”
The dwarf shook his head.
“I don’t think you understand the situation,” Nihal went on, her temper flaring. “Laio wasn’t made to be a warrior, and his birdbrain of a father wants to just throw him into the fray. If it wasn’t for me, he’d have already died on the day of his first battle.”
“It’s not my business, Nihal.”
“Oh, but it was your business when he shined your armor and waited on you hand and foot? What is it, are you afraid of his hothead father?”
Ido gripped his pipe tighter and Nihal could sense his mounting irritation. “For your information, I have no problem facing either Pewar or Raven. I’ve been standing up to men of their sort since long before you were born, is that clear?”
Nihal lowered her head. “Clear,” she murmured. “But then why won’t you give him a hand?”
Ido took a deep breath. “Listen, Nihal. How many times can you go saving Laio, whether from himself or from someone else? You saved his life in battle, you rescued him from a shack in the middle of the forest, you brought him here to me … It’s time he figured out how to make it on his own. A man needs to learn how to lift himself up. And so does a woman.”
“But you’ve always been there when I’ve needed a hand.”
“Yes, but it was you, not me, who made the decision to change. There are certain things we must do on our own.”
Nihal was silent for a few moments. “But he’s just not capable, Ido. It would be like sending a child off on his own to travel the world.”
“Don’t play the anxious mother, now. First of all, it doesn’t suit you, and secondly, it’s the last thing Laio needs at this point. If he really wants to be a squire, he needs to say so to his father and fight for his independence. Simple as that.”
“And so what am I supposed to do? Sit here and watch?”
“Yes, Nihal. In those three months when you tried to make a life for yourself away from the battlefield, I sat and waited. Sometimes there’s nothing else you can do.”
Laio was alone in his room. He imagined Nihal running to Ido and raising hell. But what about himself? What would he do? He read through the letter again. Not even the slightest shred of hope. He knew his father well enough. He was a strict man, a soldier through and through, and he was used to having his word obeyed. If he came to get Laio, the only way would be to fight back. Perhaps it was better to run off again and hide. The Overworld was boundless. It would take his father years to find him, if he ever did. But then, what sort of life was that? Wandering for all eternity from one place to another, constantly looking over his shoulder.
In the short time he’d spent at the base, he’d discovered that his desire to become a squire was no mere whim. He found the work fulfilling. He wasn’t fit to bear arms, but he did know how to take care of them. As a warrior he’d never amount to anything, but by aiding other warriors he could make a real contribution in the struggle against the Tyrant. He could see nothing dishonorable about it.
He looked over at the sword that had kept him company through his many months of wandering, abandoned in the corner of the room. He fixed his eyes on the blade. It was dull and beginning to rust. He’d shined Ido’s sword and armor with great passion, but he never had any desire to take care of his own. Now he felt like picking it up again.
In a flash, he saw his future. A brief existence. In his first battle, no matter what the mission, he would be killed. A stupid end to a useless life. Something flared up within him. No, it doesn’t have to be that way! There was an alternative. He knew that for certain after these few months. It was possible to aspire to something else.
That was it. He was decided. He would not go down without a fight. This time, nothing in the world could make him run.
The next day, Nihal froze when she stepped into Laio’s room. He was packing his bags.
“I have no intention of obeying my father’s orders,” he said to her. “It’s true, I’m not a man yet, but I’m not a little kid either, and I want to be a squire. I’m going to him to tell him so myself.”
Nihal smiled. “And how do you plan to do that?” she asked, watching as he piled his things onto his cot.
“Simple. I go, I find him, and I tell him what I think.”
“I was talking about the journey.”
Laio paused a moment. “It’s only in the Land of Water. With a good horse it shouldn’t take more than two weeks.”
Nihal shook her head. “Have you already forgotten our little evening in the Land of the Sea? You’ll be traveling along the border. It’s not safe.”
“Which means I’ll have to stay on my guard,” Laio responded.
“You’ll need an escort. I’ll speak to Nelgar about it,” she said with finality, and took off in great strides for his door.
When she reached the commander’s lodgings, however, she didn’t just ask for any guide. She requested that she herself be given permission to escort Laio.
“That’s not my decision to make,” the commander responded. “For the time being, you’re still Ido’s pupil. If he’s okay with it, I have no objection.”
Nihal let out a heavy sigh. Exactly the situation she had been hoping to avoid.
“I thought I’d been more than clear with you,” Ido began.
“It’s not what you think.”
“No, of course it isn’t.” Ido chewed the end of his pipe. “You’re not doing your friend any favors, Nihal. Laio needs to do this on his own, or he’ll never become a man. You’re not his mother, you’re not his sister. You’re not anyone.”
“It’s a dangerous journey. You at least have to admit that.”
Ido nodded, despite himself.
“So if someone has to accompany him anyway, I don’t see why it can’t be me. I know how to take care of myself. I think I’ve proved that by now.”
Ido looked up, exasperated.
Nihal’s patience vanished. “Fine, I’m not as strong-willed as you are. I get it. Not everyone can just let the ones they care about walk away without saying a word and just hope they’ll make the right decision. I’ve already let go of too many people I loved.” Her thoughts turned to Sennar, stuck out in the middle of nowhere on the ocean. She shook her head. “I’m not going with him to help settle things with his father. I’m going to keep him company, to be by his side, because that’s exactly what I would want if I were in his shoes. He helped me; he supported me every time I needed it. He was with me the night Fen died. Now it’s my turn to be there with him, during the most important decision of his life. That’s all, and if he decides to give up on his dreams, I swear to you, I won’t do a thing to interfere. I’ll be there to support him … spiritual support, that’s
all.”
“You know where I stand. If you really believe you can keep your word on that, be my guest. Go. Personally, I don’t think you’ll be able to resist the temptation to give Pewar your two cents.”
Nihal swept the hair from off her forehead in a fury and Ido burst unexpectedly into laughter. “I’m only pulling your leg! Always such a long face, with you. You don’t have the slightest sense of humor.”
Her cheeks flushed, embarrassed. “So … it’s okay if I’m off base for a little while?”
Ido sighed. “So be it. Go. Leave. Do as you please. Besides, you’re too stubborn to listen to me, anyway. That’s the way it should be, no? The young never want any advice from the old, and I’m getting on in years now.”
“But you’re just a young lad,” Nihal joked.
The dwarf gave her an affectionate whack. “Sure, sure, be a smart aleck.”
Nihal smiled. Ido might have been bearish and brusque, but he understood her as only few could.
Nelgar decided to add a third member to the escort group. A basic soldier by the name of Mathon, with whom Nihal must have exchanged two or three words in all her time at the base. Laio, on the other hand, knew him fairly well and was glad to have him among their company.
The three left at dawn on horseback, as the first rays of a warm, spring sun touched the earth. Summer was around the corner and the air was fresh.
They took the road that led to the forest, proceeding south along the border of the Great Land. Laio watched as the base disappeared little by little, swallowed up by the trees. When the dense foliage had covered it completely, he wondered if he’d ever see that place again, though he refused to allow himself any pointless regret or second thoughts. Instead, he turned his eyes to the path and prepared for the greatest battle of his life.
9
In the Whirlpool
Nearly every one of the island’s inhabitants came to bid the pirates farewell. All together, they piled on the tiny dock, which was no more than four planks of wood extending out over the undulating sea.
Moni pushed forward through the crowd and reached Sennar. “I’ve come to give my blessing for your expedition, young sorcerer. I hope to see your triumphant return,” she said, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
It was a sun-soaked morning and the ship’s sails flapped blood red in the wind. Sennar looked to the captain at the ship’s prow and to Aires at the helm, her hair blowing in the wind. He smiled.
It wasn’t long before the Vaneries faded behind them in the distance.
Ocean and more ocean stretched before them. For days there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky, not a single change of scene, nothing but blinding light and endless blue.
The days rolled slowly by, leaving too much time for thought. Sennar felt imprisoned in a cage of sea and sky. By now he knew what the ocean held in store for them and fear became his faithful travel companion. He found himself imagining more and more often the death that might await him—water flooding into his lungs, salt burning his throat and nostrils, suffocation, powerlessness, the lack of air, endless minutes of agony, and, at last, unconsciousness like a liberation. His body nibbled by fish, consumed by the current, deformed by the waves. He tried not to think of it, to force the images out of his mind, but still they tormented him.
It wasn’t only Sennar who felt the weight of the atmosphere. A sense of terror had spread its way throughout the ship, even to Rool and Aires.
Several of the crew had tried convincing the captain to leave it be. “We’ve already pocketed the million dinar. What’s forcing us to keep going? Let’s throw the sorcerer overboard and go back home.”
Rool, however, put them in their place. “Sennar saved all of our lives and we’re bringing him to the whirlpool. That’s the deal we made, and that’s the deal I plan to keep.”
One morning, after two steady weeks of sailing, the water’s surface became strangely dense. Violet striations, at first evanescent but gradually more compact and clearly defined, began to fill the sea. Despite a strong wind, the ship slowed almost to a stop.
“Lower the sails, I’ll be damned,” shouted Rool. “And get me the sorcerer.”
All action ceased on board the ship. The entire crew was leaning over the gunwale, their eyes fixed on the bluish slime.
“What is it?” asked Rool, once Sennar had arrived.
“I don’t know, Captain,” he murmured.
“Well, think about it! It must be some sort of fiendish sorcery.”
Sennar shook his head. “No magic could have created something like this,” he replied calmly.
“So what do we do?”
Even if Sennar had known the answer, he wouldn’t have had time to respond. All of a sudden, the ship began to move of its own accord. A murmuring passed among the crew. Of a sudden, the ship gave a wresting lurch forward. Then another. Though the sails had already been lowered, the ship accelerated as if a wind were at its back, and the sea transformed into one oozing, pulsing mass.
Below the keel, the slime had taken full form, revealing itself for what it was: leathery skin.
Sennar remembered Moni’s words: an obscure guardian on the way to the whirlpool. That was it. A sea monster. He’d come across them in his readings, but had always assumed they were the stuff of legend, strange creatures lurking in the depths, mammoth beings that terrorized ships. Their path had crossed with one of these beasts. A sorcerer from the Underworld must have chained it there using some sort of seal in order to protect the kingdom.
The monster, or at least a part of it, surfaced in all its horror. It was a shapeless mass, four times the size of the ship, like no living thing ever seen—an immensity of spiraling flesh with a rancid abyss at its center. They were sailing on its body, and everywhere they looked there was more of it.
Around the creature’s jaws, its purple flesh gave way to black: an enormous mouth, spiked with teeth, emitting vapors of putrefaction. Inside of it were half-digested fish, tree trunks, the remains of ships. Surrounding them, too, were corpses and skulls, human or otherwise, dragged in by the current, the remains of those who’d drowned in the storm protecting the Vaneries.
No longer were there waves, or any sea at all. There was no way to escape.
A grim bellowing filled the air. Gigantic tentacles, bearing suction cups, wriggled and twisted against the sky. For a moment, they seemed to eclipse the sun. And then they descended rapidly upon the boat.
Chaos ensued. One of the ship’s masts snapped and crashed to the deck. The wailing of crushed men joined the ship’s cacophony, Rool barking commands, Aires screaming in terror, Benares inciting the crew.
“Do something! Do something,” Dodi howled at Sennar.
Sennar was no less frightened than anyone else. He tried to think, to reason, but kept losing his train of thought. The best he could manage was to erect his force field against every blow.
The ship was flying ahead now at a terrifying speed. Beneath the dark purple of its leathery skin, the beast’s muscles contracted with ever more force and ferocity.
As the boat inched closer and closer to the creature’s maw, the volume of its groaning amplified. The frightening, repugnant sound blended with the shouts of the crew in a grotesque melody.
Sennar held tight to the mainmast, urging himself to keep calm. It wasn’t working. His heart raced maddeningly. In vain, he searched for the captain and his daughter.
Suddenly Benares stood before him. “Make a move, sorcerer!”
Sennar gave him a dazed look. “I don’t know what to do.”
The pirate’s hand came hard across Sennar’s face. “Invent something if you have to!” he yelled. Then Benares grabbed him by the hair and dragged him to the prow. “Is this what we’ve come all this way for? To end up as this monster’s lunch? What happened to all that talk about being brave?”
“I …”
Benares was beside himself. “Shut it! Show me you’re ready to do whatever it takes to complete your mission.”
Sennar nodded. He’s right. It can’t end like this.
“Well, then?” Benares shouted. “What are you going to do?”
Sennar hit upon the sole solution possible. Don’t think about the consequences. Don’t think about anything. Just do what you have to do. “I’ll need your help, Benares.”
“Fine, but let’s get on with it,” the pirate answered.
At first, it was imperceptible. The ship elevated slowly, as if pulled by invisible towropes. Then the keel raised a few yards above the monster’s skin, unsteady, until the rear of the ship wrenched upward all at once. The wind flag pointed skyward and the ship rose at a greater and greater speed, its sails blown out strangely by the downward draft. Below them, the monster writhed and reached after its prey.
“We’re flying,” Dodi muttered in astonishment as the rest of the crew leaned out over the ship’s edge to bear witness to the miracle.
Sennar was in the prow, facing outward from above the handrails, shouting a stream of incomprehensible words. Beside him stood Benares, serving as his guide. Below, the wooden sculpture of the demon seemed to taunt the beast’s jaws as they opened and closed in spasms.
Sennar clenched his fists and persevered. It was the most exhausting spell he’d ever attempted. His entire body contracted with the effort, and every single fiber of every one of his muscles ached.
Twice, the keel batted against the leathery surface.
“Concentrate! We’re going down!” Benares growled.
In a rush, the ship accelerated, causing the crew to lose their balance. The hull began to lift again ever so slightly, and again they were on the rise.
“Hoist the sails!” Benares shouted. “Hoist the sails, now!”
The ship continued to hover a few yards above the monster, seeking a way out of the forest of tentacles.
The sorcerer was at the end of his strength. He wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. It was as if all of his energy were being sucked out of him at a dizzying rate. He gave signs of collapsing, but Benares propped him up. “Come on! I’ll hold you. You concentrate on keeping us in the air.”