Journey to Water's Heart

by Lea Ben Shlomo

  “With respect and hope.

  “Seeking a favor, and requesting that my name not be included in this letter, for the good of my family and friends.”

  Silence fell on the room. Those present stared at the letter on the table, which rolled into itself again.

  “Does anyone want to say something?” the king asked, his face pale.

  General Afrur snickered. “The letter is snailed and confused,” he said.

  “There’s no reason we should listen to that Whitey and waste our time on him,” General Shipur said. e ignore them,” said high-ranking General Makaf Shakul.

  The king and Balanter exchanged looks.

  “What do you think, Azium Nasusion?” Balanter asked.

  “I think I’m not sure.” The military commander yawned. “I’m considering. I can simply say I’m not sure.”

  Balanter rose suddenly to his feet.

  “The borders are closed. The joint markets were shut down. Armed patrols of Whites are present day and night, not allowing any contact. Nautilins are being executed in Anura. A witness confirms weapons and training, and you military men prefer to ignore this.” Balanter’s voice was sharp and piercing. “I admit, I ignored the signs too. We ate, we drank, we danced, as carefree as children. While they’re probably arming themselves, we’re terribly busy preparing for the autumn competitions.” He grabbed the letter and waved it before Azium’s eyes. “This warning is a slap in the face, as simple and clear as daylight. It’s screaming, ‘Wake up!’”

  “Waking up is difficult, my dear advisor,” the king said.

  “Difficult and necessary,” Balanter said, his eyes still fixed on the military commander.

  On the other side of the door, they could hear Dionun laughing. He hadn’t stopped laughing since Tanti had started telling him about his adventures since the day they said goodbye in the cave.

  “Bring them in!” Balanter said impatiently.

  Tanti and Dionun sat before the king and his advisor. At their right sat the military men, who whispered among themselves.

  “We want to know under what circumstances you received this letter. Tanti Marin, we’ll start with you.”

  Tanti pointed at Dionun. “He gave it to me.”

  “And how did you get the letter?” the king asked.

  “My White friend wrote it and asked me to give it to Your Majesty.”

  “Why did you give the letter to Tanti instead of delivering it yourself?”

  “I had three reasons. I can tell you two.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I had to stay there, take care of the business of the prisoner who wrote this letter and of his family. And mainly, to warn others. My friend made me swear to do that as well.”

  “And the other reason?”

  “The welcome waiting for me in the palace.”

  “And the third?”

  Dionun was silent.

  “Where did it happen?”

  “What?”

  “How did the three of you, an Anurian, a Nautilin, and an Izmerandi, arrive at the same place at the same time? And how did you become friendly?”

  “In the White Tower, where the fates met. When death hovers over your head, it doesn’t matter if you’re a White or an Izmerandi,” Dionun said.

  “What did you do there?”

  “I ate, I drank, and I slept. What prisoners do in prison.”

  “You were a prisoner? Why? What did you do?”

  “I was a Blue spy.”

  “Who sent you?”

  “No one.”

  “Was it your own decision to spy?” Balanter asked.

  “No, sir. I wasn’t spying. But I was captured in Anura. Which was enough for Galrock to grant me with the title ‘Blue spy’ and sentence me to hanging.”

  “And you, what did you do there?” Balanter addressed Tanti.

  “The same thing, more or less.”

  “Were you in the same cell?”

  “Yes.”

  “And Anam—the writer of the letter, was he with you?”

  “He was in the nearby cell.”

  “How did you get into contact with him?”

  “We heard the prisoner groaning in pain,” Tanti said. “We climbed—that is, Dionun climbed the wall.”

  “Yes, I’ve been fortunate enough to witness his skills with my own two eyes. And you?”

  “I just climbed a chair standing on a table, like anyone else would. There was a gap in the wall that we could pass through.”

  Dionun interrupted him to say, “He healed him!” And pointed at Tanti. “He healed him himself, even though he was wounded and in pain, and healed him with his magic touch. That’s Tanti, a dear, brave man, in whose hands I was prepared to deposit the letter.”

  “One moment,” said the king. “I see you before me, running, leaping, climbing, and very much alive. Weren’t you sentenced to death?”

  “Indeed,” Dionun said. “The sentence was clear and final. Galrock was determined to conduct a magnificent hanging ceremony. I, personally, didn’t have the patience to wait and see if he’d keep his word.”

  “Neither did I,” Tanti said.

  “So you escaped?”

  Dionun and Tanti smiled.

  “Here we are, before you,” Dionun said.

  “I think you still have much to tell us,” said King Dark Blue. “And I’m sure I’d like to hear the story of your escape with all its details. What do you think, Balanter? Shall we put them up them in the Basket Room?”

  “Certainly.”

  “At the moment, we’ll focus on the letter,” the king said. “Does anyone want to ask any more questions?”

  Azium rose to his feet. “Did any of you read the letter?”

  Tanti shook his head. “Of course not. Who can read all those curls? All I wanted, and still want, is to be on my way.”

  “I knew the content of the letter,” Dionun said. “From conversations with my friend on the eve of our escape.”

  “And what is your stand regarding what is written there?”

  “We’d better treat things seriously and act urgently,” Dionun said.

  “My commanders think acting according to this letter is a waste of time.”

  “Your commanders are well acquainted with wasting time,” Dionun said. “They live in an amusement palace. I’ve come from Anura, and I’ve seen what’s happening there.”

  “Hold your tongue!” General Afrur said. “Know who you’re standing before!”

  “I do know, and I’m sorry for that,” Dionun said.

  “What do you know, Lizard cheese smuggler?”

  “I’m familiar with what happens on both side of the border. What do you know?”

  “Stop arguing.” Balanter raised his arms.

  “I demand you arrest this man!” General Shipur said.

  “You can try,” Dionun said.

  “No!” Tanti pleaded. “Had he not made the effort to bring news of the danger to your attention, had he not risked his life, you would’ve… You…” He fell silent, embarrassed by his outburst.

  “Are you a Lizard?” the king asked Dionun.

  “Indeed, I am,” Dionun said.

  “Lizards are outlawed, you know.”

  “Your Highness, you should reexamine your attitude toward Lizards, who nowadays don’t deal with thievery. They’re loyal to you and may bring much use. Much more than—”

  Balanter raised his hand in warning.

  “I think,” said Azium Nasusion. “That Blue spies are quite a good idea.”

  “So-called spies,” Dionun said. “When it was convenient for Galrock, he named Tanti as a spy as well.”

  “I mean real Blue spies.” The military commander turned to the king. “We’ll have to send spies to ver
ify what the letter says.”

  “Did you hear what the Anurians do to people they capture?” the king asked.

  “I can help with the spy issue,” Dionun said. “And prove that the Lizards are a useful, brave, and unquestioningly loyal group.”

  “I think you’ll have to prove that soon enough,” Balanter said. “In the meantime, you have to stay within the palace grounds.”

  “With pleasure. I’ll pass on to you all the useful information. I’m also willing to let you ‘arrest’ me and keep me for one night in that Basket Room, where I’ll recover a bit and spend time with my good friend. We’ll reminisce together. But tomorrow, I’ll be on my way. Please, don’t try to stop me.”

  Balanter and the king exchanged looks. The king nodded. Dionun stood, defiant and grinning with his buckteeth. A sharp eye would’ve noticed the tension running through his body. They knew that if they made one move toward him, he would escape.

  Balanter, who preferred goodwill over force, said, “So be it. For now, you’re to be kept in the Basket Room, with Tanti Marin. I’ll send an attendant to accompany you. He’ll guide you and take care of all your needs. Be ready for my summoning in another hour.”

  He signaled Makaf Shakul, who went to call the guard on the other side of the door. Tanti and Dionun were taken out of the hall and led to their room. The king decided it was just the right time for cinnamon tea with cookies, before they continued discussing war and Lizards. He missed Cyan, whom he hadn’t seen for several hours. He didn’t want to worry her, yet he knew he’d have to share with her what had been said in the room. Messengers were sent to summon the ministers to an urgent meeting that would take place in the evening.

  Chapter 27

  White Darkness

  The White Castle was deep in sleep. Under the faint light of the half-moon, it seemed as though its pointy turrets and the magnificent roofs of its halls were carved in ice. Queen Laorin tossed and turned, lost in the gleaming silk sheets of her huge bed. Her eyes were wide open in the dark. Her heart pounded. Restlessness plagued her, until she climbed out of bed, wrapped a scarf around herself, and stood beside a window, staring out.

  Sleep eluded her, although she was exhausted from the day’s events. Many things required her attention. Meetings, consultations, documents, requests, and ceremonies. Her soul yearned for some peace, for the little joys, for entertainment. Strolling with her ladies to the spring, riding her beloved horse, dreaming. She had only a few hours of leisure. She worked hard to prove she was a worthy queen, yet her heart was filled with doubt. And despite her weariness, her sleep at night was restless and short.

  She rubbed the topaz drop hanging around her neck, shaped like a transparent teardrop. If she looked deeply into it, she could see the colors of the rainbow shining in it, sometimes like orange and purple flames, flaring and retreating into themselves. How did they find a place to dwell and amaze with their beauty, without lessening the jewel’s delicacy? How did that young man return into her life, open a window into her dreamworld, and then disappear? His brief presence still affected her thoughts and actions. They were strangers, yet they shared a secret. The jewel, which she had noticed on the horse’s neck that day by the spring, gave away his nearby presence. He could’ve grabbed his horse and escaped. Instead, he chose to leave something of himself. And she could have told her soldiers where the fugitive was.

  The magic of the jewel tied her hands and allied her to the “enemy.”

  Friend or foe? She had no one to ask, no one to consult. She let her heart choose—something that was unheard of in Anura, a country in which everything was clear and predetermined. And she, the White queen, added another hidden stain to her pure appearance. She rode his horse and carried the jewel he had left her secretly and with subtle wittiness. These treasures were dear to her. They filled her soul with pain and pleasure, causing her to stray from the path she’d chosen. She knew the colors, as passionate and rich as they were, would never fade. She knew that she, the White queen, had to bury her secret deep in her heart, without fulfilling any joy or action, without touching the life her heart yearned for.

  “Oh, Mother. Sweet, beautiful Mother,” she whispered, her hands gripping the window bars. “How I miss you. Father. Oh, Father.”

  A White queen does not cry. A White queen does not cry. She hugs her pillow and trembles.

  When the king brought Io, a Red girl from Admin, to his castle, the gossipmongers started talking. They talked about what she did, how she dressed, and how she walked. The young queen tried to adjust, tried to learn the ways of the Whites, tried to make friends, but she found no sympathy or friendship among the ladies of the palace. Her joie de vivre, her vibrancy, and her mischievousness repelled the reserved women of Anura and irritated them. How cruel they were to the foreigner who had invaded their White world. So much criticism was showered upon the young queen, a Red, who chose to raise her daughters herself, to breastfeed them, to hug and kiss them without the appropriate restraint. Who played with them and sang to them and laughed out loud.

  Laorin and her sister, Halior, enjoyed the warmth and love their parents showered on them. Laorin’s father was kind and loving, yet distant and reserved. He was usually preoccupied with royal matters. He didn’t demonstrate his feelings, as was appropriate for a White. Yet he never refused their requests, and his adoring eyes nurtured their joy and confidence.

  The king refused to listen to the criticism aimed at his beloved wife. Young Laorin and Halior understood the insinuations and comments they heard, which infiltrated into the princesses’ magical world.

  Laorin grew up with confusion and doubt, torn between her admiration for her mother and the criticism aimed at her.

  Io, who missed her country and people, wanted to introduce her daughters to her grandfather. Halior refused to accompany them on their journey to the poor shepherds’ country, which was too “common” for her. Perhaps she wanted to avoid that unsettling duality. Halior had always been much closer to their father and adhered to the rules and strict traditions of the Whites. She loved her mother dearly, although she avoided demonstrating her feelings. Laorin knew that her sister’s distance hurt their mother more than other people’s alienation. She saw the pain in her mother’s eyes when Halior refused to accompany them, and tried to compensate for her sister’s absence by behaving impeccably.

  When she and her mother returned from their visit, their relationship had deepened. Consequently, her distress and doubt grew when she heard the contempt and derision aimed toward the queen.

  One day, her mother fell ill with a mysterious disease. Halior’s walls of resistance crumbled. She regretted her behavior and dedicated herself to taking care of her mother. She and her sister didn’t budge from their mother’s bedside, day or night. When their father came to replace them, they’d go to sleep, held in each other’s arms. No one could’ve guessed the illness would cause their vivacious and strong mother’s death. The light of their lives was fading, and no cure was found for the queen.

  Shortly after her death, the king fell ill as well. He lost his will to live after his beloved queen had died. The girls felt abandoned and tried to hold on to their father and instill in him the need to protect them, to remind him of his obligations toward them. But the king gradually severed his ties with their world, shrouded in a cloud that obscured his senses and sucked his life from his body. His spirit had wandered far away. A smell of sweet smoke embraced him during his last days, and lingered for many days after his heart had stopped beating.

  The grief was unbearable. The double loss encased Laorin’s heart in dark iciness. But she didn’t have time to grieve and sink into her sorrow. A crown was placed on her head. The oldest daughter had become the queen of Anura.

  Nikon was a young minister when her father noticed him and appointed him as his head advisor. After his death, when Laorin was crowned, Nikon was the man who stood by her side, who support
ed her and assured her that she had the ability to fulfill the assignment before her. He warned her not to hurry to delegate authority because of her young age, or because of the weakness of her aching heart, so that it would not fall into the wrong hands. Nikon, an experienced man of government, guided her, read and patiently explained the tedious, formal letters, and helped establish her authority and involvement in various fields of rule. He banished the oppositionists, and wished to prove that a king’s daughter was worthy of taking over her father’s title and ruling the Whites. He stood between her and the world and covered her weakness on difficult days. With time, Laorin grew stronger. Her sister, who sensed the threat surrounding them, helped her and loyally labored by her side. Galrock, the retiring captain of the guard, appeared one day and offered his services and vast experience. He took it upon himself to reinforce the White army and protect the country’s borders, and she was grateful for that. The royal obligations, which kept her busy during the day, numbed her pain and restored her will to live. She had to ensure the welfare of her people, protect them, and enable development and prosperity. Her role consumed her. Only at night, when she was alone, would the memories and profound yearning return.

  Down below, on the path, she saw a figure passing by, wrapped in a hood that fluttered behind it. A shiver ran through her body. Who was scurrying down there, sneaking among the shadows? Where were the guards?

  When she looked again, the path was empty and abandoned. Perhaps it was just a dream?

  ***

  The tower guards left to circumvent the pointed structure, which towered above threateningly. They marched in sync, disappearing behind the bend. In a moment, they’d be back. Galrock, the White captain of the guard, tightened the hood shadowing his face and hurried to slip inside, before the guards returned.

  He walked down a dark, narrow corridor. From his pocket, he pulled out a short, rounded staff, which shone in the dark. The staff shook in his hand. He wanted to retrace his steps. Yet a force stronger than him pulled him forward, to the lone door set in the depths of the corridor. His legs carried him as though of themselves. The uncontrollable need to smell the sweet-tangy smoke, which extricated him from the burdens of his soul, locked in those stormy pits of despair, brought him to the dark dungeons again and again, as he snuck around and hid from the eyes of his subordinates, from the eyes of the world, at the mercy of his master.