Journey to Water's Heart

by Lea Ben Shlomo

  “Continue the ceremony according to plan,” Laorin said. “I’ll be fine.”

  “You can lean on me,” Nikon said.

  “No, of course not,” Laorin said and straightened her back. “Start raising the flags.”

  Laorin didn’t remember how the event ended or how she made it to her room. Today, she had almost lost control before her subjects, an unforgivable faux pas. Her girls helped her let down her hair and extracted her from her oppressive dress. They didn’t know why their queen was silent, her gaze distant.

  Wearing her light gown, free of the pressures of the corset of her dress and her shoes, Laorin sat down in the soft velvet armchair and drowned in its pillows. She sent her ladies away and was now free to examine her feelings. She’d been so close to a scandal! What a pathetic queen she was. How would she stand at the head of an army and lead her country to victory?

  Did kings and queens have to go to war? Witness death and blood? She didn’t want a war. Perhaps they should cease with preparations at once, before the first drop of blood was spilled?

  Laorin’s thoughts frightened her. She knew she wouldn’t be able to raise the idea before those close to her. They’d say she was a coward, a defeatist. That she didn’t love her country. Even if she was the queen and considered the highest authority, she knew her hands were tied in bonds of silk that were stronger than she was. Her mother and father fell sick, and died shortly after. Maybe it was because they wanted to change a rigid system, which couldn’t endure changes?

  Who had wanted them dead? Someone who was close to them and could reach them easily. Who could reach her too, if he or she wanted. And cause her death. If only she knew who her true enemy was, she would fight him. Yes. She was afraid, but she was willing to face her enemies. She could be strong if only she were certain she were right. What was good and what was bad? Was her heart leading her right or leading her astray?

  Who could she turn to for advice?

  “I, Laorin, queen of the Whites.” She repeated the words of the ceremony. “Salute you heroes. You are the power of the mighty. You are honor and justice. You are the glory of Anura, Oran Uleran.”

  “Oran Uleran.”

  ***

  King Dark Blue raised his head from the desk in his headquarters. He listened to the rain falling harder. For the last three days, it had rained ceaselessly. Training was cut short. The minute it stopped raining, they’d build sheds. Winter was just starting. They couldn’t stop training.

  He sighed loud and long. What was the point in training? How could armament help?

  He climbed the spiral steps and opened the door leading out to a small, round balcony. From there, through curtains of rain wrapping the balcony, he could make out the blurry sight of the abandoned training grounds, covered with mud. Beyond that were the stables and horse corrals. In some, he could make out the sad sight of the horses, standing in the rain, their heads lowered. Every so often, someone crossed the grounds, skidding and stumbling. More than once, someone slipped and fell in the mud. “If this didn’t amuse me, I’d say this were a sorry sight. Yes, sorry and gloomy,” the king said to himself, and flinched when the wind carried drops of rain toward him and he started to shiver from the cold.

  “Balanter!” He shouted once, then twice, when he returned to his warm office. A servant peeked into the office.

  “Call Minister Balanter,” the king said.

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” The servant bowed and stepped back.

  “Also Military Commander Azium Nasusion.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Bring Generals Afrur and Shipur.”

  “At your service, Your Majesty.”

  “And Senior Commander Makaf Shakul. Tell him to drop everything and come to see me.”

  The servant nodded and waited.

  “What are you waiting for? Call them!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  One by one, the advisors and high-ranking military men gathered in the large room. The king instructed them to sit. He himself paced restlessly. Finally, he stopped and sat heavily.

  “What’s happening, Balanter?” he asked. “What is our situation?”

  “I think we’re making good progress.”

  “My dear advisor,” the king said. “Please don’t try to paint a pretty picture. I want to know where things stand.”

  “Well, we’ve made quite some progress, considering our starting point.”

  “What about the forest man’s swords?”

  “Martam Og? He kept his word. It’s been brought to my knowledge that he opened a big blacksmith workshop, and they’re working day and night. The swords are of excellent quality as are the spears. They’re building light carriages, shields, and helmets. All the recruited soldiers are well equipped, and they’re all training enthusiastically.”

  “Of course they’re all equipped,” the king said. “Considering how few they are. Imagine we had two times as many soldiers. That could have posed a problem. What do you have to say about our situation, Azium Nasusion?”

  The military commander stood, no longer sleepy and gloomy. In fact, lately he’d slept very little, and judging by his lithe figure, which had shrunk quite a bit, he hadn’t eaten a lot either. If not for his low mood, the sight of his energetic, lively military commander would’ve cheered the king up.

  “Our soldiers are indeed well equipped,” said the military commander. “Their performance is improving satisfactorily, and their spirits are high.”

  “General Shipur, would you like to add anything to that?” King Dark Blue asked.

  “We’ve built an elite company of archers and snipers. Their performance is encouraging.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. How’s the cavalry training coming along? I hear that Tanti Marin is doing a wonderful job.”

  “He put together a glorious cavalry squadron,” General Shipur said.

  “How big is it?” Balanter asked.

  “Including the grooms and the stable cleaners?” the general asked.

  “Not including the tail brushes!” The king yelled. “Not including the shoe polishers and the salad cutters! Not including the seamstresses sewing the uniforms and the mule drivers and the equipment movers! Not including all those, Azium, my famed military commander. How many soldiers does my army have?”

  Azium took a notebook and pencil out of his shirt pocket. “I’ll tell you exactly in just a moment, Your Majesty.”

  “It’s better that you don’t tell me exactly,” the king said. “I know our army is small, even tiny, compared to the Anurian army.”

  “We’re doing the best we can, Your Majesty. And so are the soldiers,” said the military commander.

  “I’m sure,” the king said. “You’re all making an effort that is well beyond your abilities. I wish I could admire that. I just…” He fell silent for some time. He felt sorry for his commanders, for the letters he sent, in which he requested peace talks and reconciliation and hadn’t received an answer. What was going on there?

  “Did we get any information from that Lizard, what’s his name?”

  “Dionun,” Balanter said. “His people are providing regular information regarding the White army.”

  “What does that information say?”

  “Do you really want me to tell you, Your Majesty?” Balanter asked.

  “To tell you the truth, I already know the answer. They’ll defeat us the first time they attack. They’ll conquer territories. They’ll trample our Blue pride for generations to come. I’ll go mad. The people expect me to protect them. To solve their problems. Why, of all the Blue leaders who ran around in Nautilin, am I the one doomed to be the king in such a time?”

  “There was never a more worthy king in Nautilin,” said a soft and melodious voice. Cyan approached them and put her hand on her husband’s shoulder.

  The
re was nothing the king needed more than to hear her clear voice and lean against her logic. He grabbed the hand resting on his shoulder and didn’t know what to say.

  “The Whites are forcing every young, healthy man in their country to enlist,” Queen Cyan said. “Taxes are high, and property is frequently confiscated. Farms and businesses are collapsing, and people are losing their livelihood. At least we know that in our country, the soldiers are in the army of their own will. They have fighting spirit.”

  “Of course, it wouldn’t hurt if another several thousand came, of their own free will, with the same fighting spirit.”

  “They may arrive yet. I’m sure they will,” Cyan said.

  Just then, the double doors burst open and Tiponet ran inside, disrupting the melancholy silence with her high chirping. “Important news! Important news!” she said.

  “Enough!” the king yelled. “Cyan, take her away from here.”

  “Come, Tippy,” the queen said, trying to draw her away from the king. But an enthusiastic Tiponet stayed where she was, in the middle of the room, and continued talking.

  “You remember my noble aunt, who lives in the city, next to Fan Fountain?”

  “Of course,” Cyan said. “But there are about thirty Fan Fountains in the city, and you have quite a few aunties.”

  “But I have only one aunt who lives next to the fountain and not on Hexagon Pool Street,” Tiponet said, ignoring the scary eyes staring at her. “And I actually visited her today and helped her bake raisin cookies, because her son, I mean, my cousin, is going to join. I mean, he told me of the news spreading like wildfire all over the country, which hasn’t arrived yet to the palace.”

  “Dear Tiponet,” said Azium Nasusion. “I’m sure what you’re telling us about your cousin, who’s going to join something, is exciting. Yet if you don’t mind, we’re in the middle of a meeting here.”

  “I know! That’s why I came! So all of you can hear it.”

  The king turned to the queen. “Cyan, talk to her. You must do something about these dramatic entrances of hers.”

  “I’d actually like to hear about this thing spreading all over the country, which hasn’t reached us yet, and why Tiponet, who has a day off, shortened her vacation and rushed here to update us. Of course, we can do this privately in my room, if no one but me is interested in listening.”

  “I didn’t say that.” The king looked at Balanter, who nodded.

  “Well then, speak, Tiponet. The king is listening,” Cyan said. “And if it’s not too difficult, skip the part about your cousin, fans, and raisins, and tell us the important stuff.”

  “The important stuff is Zoded,” Tiponet said. “A young, brave man from some southeast village. He founded a volunteer’s movement. They’re gathering from all over the country. He’s calling them to come join the king’s army. Many, many volunteers are on their way here.”

  “What?” The king rose from his chair.

  “And his mother, whose name I don’t remember, is riding ahead of him with her women’s association, visiting villages, and rousing enthusiasm, and when they arrive somewhere, the volunteers are already waiting for them. Her husband—that is, Zoded’s father—and his village people are taking care of the equipment, the wagons, and the horses. What do you have to say to that?”

  “I’d say that’s a hard story to believe,” Azium Nasusion said.

  “Another glorified Blue legend,” said General Shipur.

  “To me, this legend sounds like wonderful news,” Balanter said. “And I’m leaving at once to check things out, with your permission, Your Majesty.”

  Tiponet stood in the room, beaming, extremely sure of her news. “In the next couple of days,” she said, “they’re supposed to arrive at Basalon Forest. That’s where they’re setting up camp and preparing their entrance to the City of Water. My cousin is leaving to join them. He fears that by the time they get here, to the City of Water, there won’t be any place for him. That’s why we made the cookies and the pies, to equip him for the way, so he’ll be able to share with the others. Sorry, Your Majesty, you asked me to skip the part about the cookies. They say that there are over two thousand people. And many volunteers continue to arrive every day.”

  The king went to hug her. “You can tell us about your family and about as many pies as you want, Tiponet. With news like you’ve just brought, I’m willing to hear all the details.”

  Queen Cyan joined him. All those present went to praise and thank her.

  “Balanter,” the king said. “I think that what we didn’t dare hope would happen is happening. I’ll send my people at once to find out how many volunteers we have. We’ll have to prepare for them.”

  “Oh, no!” the queen said. “How will we provide uniforms for everyone?”

  “You can forget about the uniforms.” Azium Nasusion smiled, which was in itself exciting news. “They probably have the necessary fighting spirit without tailored vests.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” Cyan looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, I think I have an idea. In fact, I’m sure I have an excellent idea regarding the uniforms.”

  She didn’t receive an answer. The people in the room were discussing what Tiponet had discovered, the high-ranking military men standing and discussing among themselves how to proceed in order to organize the arrival of the new volunteers. Balanter and Tiponet left to gather information. The king and queen climbed up to the round balcony, holding hands and looking at the pouring rain.

  The Blue king didn’t know he was about to receive even better news, while Cyan stood before him, glowing, one of her hands in his, the other resting on her stomach.

  Chapter 36

  The Volunteer Camp

  Sounds of the myolnas spread throughout the grove at the edge of Basalon Forest, with echoes of drums and silver flutes. Zoded stood before his tent, stared at the bonfires scattered around and the images moving among them, smelled the aroma of food roasting on the fire, and listened to the shouting and laughter.

  He wanted so to sit with them, enjoy himself while eating and drinking, and take part in the teasing and the random conversations between the groups. However, from dawn to dusk, he had to solve the problems that kept popping up, gather the equipment that had arrived, and find tents to protect it from the rain. Where would he bring more canvas from? In order to do that, the River people would have to move their tents and set them up closer to the Diggers, with whom they were in constant conflict. New volunteers kept arriving at all hours of the day and night, and it was necessary to get them settled.

  He had to give orders to people older than himself. He had to organize walking formations. To settle disputes. To be a guest at late-night parties and distribute prizes to those who won competitions. Many people were looking up to him in trust. He was filled with a strength he hadn’t known before. Many times, he had to stand before an audience and say his piece.

  Every time, his stomach roiled. What would he say to them? He was a young man, just like them, who had enlisted to help his country. A trembling would start at his feet and swamp him, yet words and ideas flowed from his mouth freely.

  “Brothers, my countrymen. Our little country is a beautiful country.”

  Applause and cheers.

  “The enemy won’t step on our land as long as daring warriors protect its borders, as long as our spirit is strong and united.”

  “Hurray.”

  “Every one of us will find within himself the latent power of heroism and turn it into a powerful weapon against the Whites, who want to rise against us.”

  “Boo for the Whites. Honor and glory for Zoded.”

  His words flowed out of him, reaching places he didn’t know existed in him.

  How much time had passed since they had left Tipin Village, cheering and singing? Days? Weeks? He felt as though years had passed. His life had changed since. He
was no longer a boy living in his parents’ house, angry and bitter at his fate. Now, he was busy from morning until night. Every day, volunteers arrived, and he had to place them in the growing system. He and his people had been camping for a month in the oak grove, several days’ walk from the City of Water. Organization was becoming more clumsy and awkward every day. First, it was only one group, young and eager. After that, groups from other regions arrived. The cheerful winegrowers from the Wine district. The brooding stonecutters from Drapa Quarry. The stout, heavy-footed southerners. The sturdy foresters from the center. The people of the Blue Dunes, with their light-colored clothes and dreamy eyes. The boys of the dancing club from Turquoise Valley. A small group of people from the rocky west joined and drew the envy of everyone when they arrived riding light-footed horses and carrying real weapons, polished and decorated, unlike most of the villagers, who arrived with their work tools—hammers, axes, and batons. Indeed, a priceless fighting force. It was soon apparent that the westerners were an undisciplined, rowdy bunch, who frequently brawled with their neighbors, and then Zoded was called to break up the fights.

  The people of Bird Village also joined the volunteers, the boys of Sparrow Valley and Sweet Village, who united and arrived together as a gay, lively group. Taking Talul’s advice, he appointed a leader, a representative chosen from every arriving group, who was the commander and mediated between him and the group, and through whom he could pass orders. There were also those who came alone and had to join other groups.

  The leaders would bring to him their complaints and would raise issues. His friend Afun encouraged him to organize competitions, in order to maintain a united spirit and a willingness to complete their assignments as well as they could. For example, a setting-up-tents competition, a singing-and-playing competition, and other challenges. He had no idea how he could’ve endured the duties his role entailed without the help of his three friends, Afun, Talul, and Mazof, who turned out to be full of initiative and boundless energy.