by Pedro Urvi
“It’s the Marked!” he cried, euphoric at the new vision.
“Argh! Energy! I need more vital energy!” the Dark Lady cried, and Isuzeni saw that the last two prisoners had died. They needed more slaves, but there was no time to look for them.
“You and you,” Isuzeni said, gesturing at two huge Moyuki from the Empress’s guard. “Give your life right now for your Lady.”
Without a moment’s hesitation the two Moyuki stepped forward.
“Hold the Skull,” he ordered, and both elite warriors, faithful to the last, did as they were told.
The grey energy began to leave their bodies to feed the Skull, and the Dark Lady took her hands away for a moment to recover. She breathed deeply and replaced her hands, for the vision was beginning to fade in the mirror.
“Where is he, my Lady, where?”
The Dark Lady moaned; the struggle with the Skull had reached its height. For a moment it seemed she would succumb, but the Empress’s power imposed itself. The image regained intensity and showed the Marked running through the forest.
“Where, my Lady?”
The image began to move away from the Marked, as if seen by a bird soaring high on the wind. Isuzeni saw two further figures running with him: a big burly man and a woman with fiery hair.
“Where are you? Where?”
He repeated the question. The tension inside him was almost unbearable. The image slipped still further away, and Isuzeni could now see a dense oak forest.
“Higher, higher,” he begged.
And the image soared like an eagle, and from the sky Isuzeni could see the Thousand Lakes, and the Marked in one of the central forests which bordered the great masses of water, to the East.
“He’s… he’s right there…” he said in amazement, reaching out his hand, “at the other end of the Thousand Lakes… The White Tigers are combing that area…”
The Dark Lady let go of the Skull, overwhelmed by the enormous effort, and fell to her knees. The insatiable arcane object went on devouring the two Moyuki, even after the vision had ended.
From the ground, her fists clenched in pure rage. Yuzumi cried out:
“His head! Isuzeni, bring me his head!”
Two threads one Destiny
“We’ll camp here. It looks like a good shelter,” Komir said as he looked at the mountain side and the beech trees around them.
Hartz breathed out heavily and looked around.
“This looks like a pretty thick forest, and I shouldn’t think there’s a soul for leagues around… Shall I make a small fire?”
Komir remained thoughtful; it would be more prudent not to, but they really needed it after the long trek. They had been walking all day crossing that forest at a fast pace towards the east. He was tired and sad, the former because of the pace they had set and the latter… because of Aliana’s unexpected betrayal… He still could not believe it. Komir knew that it really had not been a betrayal as such, since he had no rights over the Healer’s feelings, even though his heart felt as though she had allowed him to think so. He felt painfully betrayed. From the moment he had seen Aliana, Komir had fallen head over heels for her, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was well aware that he was no more than a highlander, almost a savage in comparison to an educated Healer, but his heart had fallen under the spell of Aliana’s courage, beauty and kindness. And now he felt a terrible pang in the pit of his stomach which filled him with unrest. When he remembered seeing her kissing the Prince he felt he had no air left in his lungs. He was truly hurt, and it was almost a physical pain, like being stabbed in the chest, something he had never felt before. He felt like a wounded animal; his heart was broken and a weight of sorrow pressed down on him.
I don’t deserve her… I’m a wild, uneducated warrior from the highlands and she’s a Healer. What can I offer a refined woman like her? There’s an abyss between us, she deserves better, she belongs with a Prince… As much as it hurts… I don’t want to get in her way, I want her to be happy…
“Stop thinking about her, man…”
“I’m that transparent?” Komir reacted, forgetting his thoughts.
“You are to me,” Hartz said with a big smile. “Let it be, don’t chew it over and over, you’ll only manage to torture yourself. He’s the Prince of Rogdon… the two of us a couple of Norriel brutes…”
“But what do you know about matters of the heart, you dimwit,” Kayti burst out as she came back with an armful of dry twigs for the fire.
“I must know something, seems to me, seeing as you’re with me…” Hartz said, puffing out his chest.
Kayti laughed heartily, and the big man flushed. Soon he was redder than a ripe tomato.
“Oh, shut up and don’t make me laugh. I even had to draw you a map so you could find my bedroom!”
Komir, who was drinking, choked when he heard and ended up coughing up the water he had half-swallowed. His sadness and dark mood disappeared at once and he relaxed. It would be best not to think about Aliana, to forget about her and that way the pain would stay away. Although Komir knew that it would always be there, buried in the deepest corner of his heart.
“A woman’s heart is a complicated thing, Komir. Don’t take what your eyes saw for granted, you might be mistaken,” Kayti said kindly.
“I know what I saw…” Komir said, crestfallen.
“Perhaps… and perhaps not. Women are complicated by nature and as far as feelings and love are concerned, even more so. Otherwise how do you explain my love for this dimwit? It has no explanation, it’s not logical. But that’s how it is.”
Hartz looked at her and beamed with absolute delight.
“If I might give you a piece of advice, Komir, let Aliana find her own way. There’s a lot in the Healer’s heart and she must find out by herself what will make her completely happy. Don’t drive her away from you, not now, I honestly believe you’d be making a mistake.”
“She could have chosen me but she chose the Prince. She made the right decision.”
Kayti heaved a sigh.
“As you wish, Komir… but things are not as simple as the way you see them, the heart doesn’t understand about right or position. Give her time so she can figure it out.”
Komir nodded, even though he believed in his heart that the best thing for Aliana was the Prince of Rogdon, and not him.
Hartz and Kayti lit a fire in the middle of a new lover’s quarrel which the big man was obviously going to lose. The redhead, little by little, had managed to make Komir’s feelings toward her less negative, but even though he tolerated her more than he might have wanted to, he still did not trust her. She had been hiding something ever since they had all met, and she had never revealed it. Komir kept an eye on her at all times, since he could not forget she was a Knight of the Custodian Brotherhood, and there was something fishy about that Brotherhood, and her… He realized more and more that all the people around him were following their own goals, their own personal purposes, which did not exactly chime with his own. He thought of Haradin and of how even the Great Mage of Rogdon, so powerful, so wise, pursued his own ends and had not revealed everything he knew. Something akin to resentment began to stir in his stomach once again, but he managed to subdue it.
I’d better focus on thinking, rather than letting my emotions get the better of me. I’ll go over what Haradin told me before we left. Perhaps he revealed more than he really meant to without realizing, something that might be useful to me.
He wrapped himself in his dark woolen cloak and closed his eyes, the warmth of the small fire was comforting Komir’s tired body. A pretty demanding day today. Weird confessions, Haradin’s half-truths, traveling through Ilenian portals, the Temple of Air at the bottom of an endless lake, the giant whirlwind, a forced march through the forests… yes, a really demanding day. But at last he could have some rest.
Kayti was taking the first watch. Komir found it strange seeing her without her white armor. She had lost it during their journey thr
ough the desert. Now the three of them were dressed in Rogdonian clothes in blue and silver, and even though they were of fine material he was still not used to the sight of them. The coat of chain-mail they had been given had been made by a master craftsman, probably the King’s own because the quality was exceptional. The leather hauberks, dyed blue with silver trimming, must have cost a fortune in gold. The leather boots were comfortable and the reinforced leather arm-pieces could certainly divert a stroke effectively. They had come back in rags and they had needed new clothes, above all Hartz, who looked like a beggar.
Watching the giant snoring gently on the other side of the fire, Komir began to feel drowsy and let himself slip into the sleep his body needed so badly. He did not know how long he had been sleeping when he began to hear a distant voice in his mind. A voice calling his name from a great distance: Komir… Komir… Komir… The voice was familiar, but sounded faraway… He wanted to wake up but he was so tired. Komir… Komir… Komir… the voice repeated. He felt sharp pangs through his entire body, as if he was being lashed, but it was not a physical pain. He fought against the torture, while in his mind an image began to take shape little by little: Amtoko’s cave.
He was greeted by a cold rasping voice which he recognized immediately:
“I see you’re still not answering my calls, young Norriel. You can’t imagine how hard it is for me to make contact through our blood link.”
Amtoko, the Silver Witch of the Norriel, was sitting beside the fire in her gloomy cave, with her enormous black cat at her side.
“And I can see that it’s just as painful as before, if not more so… You told me that the pain would get less, Amtoko…”
The Witch giggled.
“Aha! You shouldn’t believe everything a crazy old witch tells you. Another lesson of life learned, young Norriel.”
“I’ve been learning a lot of lessons lately, too many of them…”
“Ah… my dear friend, life is just a whole heap of lessons to experience and learn! Some well learned and some not so well,” she said, looking at Komir with a strange expression on her face.
“Before you try to trick me with your visions and the fate of the Norriel, I want you to answer some questions. Or else we’ll have nothing more to talk about, you and I, Silver Witch.”
“But my dear Komir, why all this hostility? I’m on your side, I always have been, ever since you arrived in our village…”
“That’s exactly what I want to talk about, Amtoko. You never told me you knew Haradin…”
The Witch gave him a cunning look.
“You never asked, young Norriel. I’m an old witch, I’ve been on this earth far too long and met a great many people… most of them dead now, others not yet…”
“Don’t you speak in riddles too, Amtoko. You know perfectly well what I want to know” he said, distressed.
Amtoko raised her hand in a soothing gesture.
“I know Haradin, yes. A good friend is the Rogdonian Mage. He’s always been a friend of the Norriel people. I’ve known him for a long time. Satisfied?”
“No, I’m not satisfied. I’m tired of you both not telling me all the truth…”
“What is it you want to know, my dear boy? Ask and you shall be answered.”
“I’ll ask you what I asked him. Do you know why they tried to kill me when I was just a baby? Do you know who sent those Dark Assassins?”
“No Komir, I don’t know. I’ve never known.”
“Haradin told me of something you did to hide me from my pursuers. What was it? Please… tell me everything…”
“Oh yes… the Great Hiding Spell… A great spell was that, yes, indeed. Quite proud I am, pretty good for a crazy old woman like me… Haradin, with his great power, helped me do it. It was impressive. Yes, I cast the spell over that mysterious night-black medallion. While the medallion is with you it will hide your power, your Gift, your essence, from anyone searching for you. That’s why you weren’t found in eighteen years. Its effect covers several leagues; as long as you’re not further away than that, you won’t be found.”
“Then how did they find me?”
“Ah, young people have so little memory for the detail that matters… That unpleasant incident at the Bear Ceremony unleashed all kinds of rumors, and you’d be surprised to learn how far they can reach, particularly if they’re juicy ones… and the ears those rumors can reach, if the listeners are on the alert…”
“I see… that was why… your spell didn’t fail…”
“No, it didn’t fail, and what’s more it should be still effective, as it was a great spell,” she repeated proudly. “Come to think about it… I worked another spell like it sometime later.”
“A second hiding spell?”
“Yes, very powerful too, very much like yours.”
“Who for?”
“Haradin, who else?” the Witch said with a smile.
“Who else did the Mage want to hide?”
“He never told me, said it was better if I didn’t know for my own good, and I took his advice. When an old friend tries to protect you it’s best to do as he says, it tends to keep you alive longer. Some time had passed when he appeared in my cave one night, and asked me to repeat the Great Hiding Spell. Five men were with him. His Keepers, he called them.”
“What did you enchant, Amtoko, another Ilenian medallion?”
“No, that’s what surprised me about his request. They brought me four runic stones, the size of a man’s arm, and he asked me to cast the spell over them.”
“Runic stones? What are they, what are they for?”
“Hah! My young Norriel, it would take me years to explain all the concepts connected with magic, energy, nature and spirit. Unfortunately, and although I’d gladly teach you, it’s not the right time. Let’s say, in terms that your bear-cub mind can understand, that those runic stones Haradin brought me had a special ability: the power to absorb and hold the magic of a spell for a long time. Where he’d found them, and the inscriptions carved on them, I don’t know. I didn’t ask, it wasn’t this old witch’s business. What I do know is that it was a matter of life or death for Haradin, and he asked me to hurry.”
“Why hadn’t you ever told me until now?”
“For two reasons, my dear Norriel. The first and most important: Haradin asked me never to reveal to anyone the reason for that secret visit because the life of innocent people was at stake. And the second: you never asked me,” she said with a mischievous smile.
“Would you have told me?”
“Hmmm… perhaps I would, or perhaps I would have waited for the right moment. For a moment like this…”
Komir breathed out in frustration. How he hated the secretiveness of all these Mages and Witches!
“Is the spell on the Dark Medallion still working?”
“Of course, my young warrior, and on the runic stones too. Don’t you have it with you?”
“No, I don’t… Lindaro has it…”
“It’s no good for him. It can only work for you, or for someone who also has a Gift, a power like yours… You should get it back as soon as possible. It has great value, and will hide your movements from the enemy. It’s more than likely they’re still looking for you… to kill you. Yes, I very much fear it’s so.”
Komir remained thoughtful. He had to find Lindaro to get back the Dark Medallion, but he had no idea where to find the man of faith.
“All right, Amtoko, now tell me, what’s this summons about? If you’ve come to tell me we’re in danger, let me tell you that I already know. War is decimating Rogdon, the situation of the Kingdom is critical, thousands of Rogdonians have died and the survivors are behind the walls of Rilentor, fleeing from the death and destruction which stalks the realm. We’re on a mission for King Solin.”
“Yes, my inexperienced bear cub, I know what Haradin and the King have asked you: to find the other two Bearers and lead them back to Rilentor. That’s not why we’re here, you and I. Although… perhap
s… in part… a part of something altogether more crucial.”
“I can’t follow your thoughts…”
The Silver Witch giggled.
“Since you left our little village in search of your personal vendetta, you’ve been very busy, haven’t you? What’s that hanging round your neck?”
Komir began to explain: “It’s a…”
“I know what it is, boy,” she interrupted. “I’ve been watching you as often as I could. I know your adventures well, and those of your companions. So don’t try to hide anything from me. I might be a half-crazy old witch and perhaps a tad senile, but my mind still runs astonishingly fast for my age.”
“I can well believe that you see everything and that your mind is as quick as always. But why would I hide anything from you?”
“Hah! The heart of men has a natural tendency to get confused when it comes into contact with power. The yearning for power, greatness, dominion, will corrupt the purest soul. That Ilenian medallion round your neck has such an amazing power I doubt whether you can ever come to understand it.”
“It’s a charmed medallion, and it’s saved my life several times. That’s all I know and all I care about.”
“Ah, now right there, in those words, lies the essence of what I’m trying to tell you. A medallion or any other Object of Power can’t save anybody, it’s just an object. My panther can save you, I can save you, but a magical object can’t. It’s just an object with one purpose, to be used by someone.”