Journey to Water's Heart

by Lea Ben Shlomo

  “I know,” she said softly. “I’m just worried about you. Galrock’s people spy and stir up matters endlessly. If they hear you, you’re liable to find yourself in more trouble than being sent away from the battlefield.” Halior fell silent and looked into his eyes. “It’s better to wait and go with the flow for now,” she said quietly. “Nikon, I fear the man no less than you. We gave him power, without knowing that we’d stand helpless in the face of his ambitions.”

  “Does the queen share your opinion?”

  “Laorin won’t hear a word against him. I think she feels something is wrong, but she doesn’t dare face the truth.”

  “What can we do, Princess? We must stop him before it’s too late.”

  “We must be careful, Nikon. I’ll tell you a secret. I’m not sure of the circumstances surrounding my parents’ death, yet I think he had something to do with their illnesses. However, even if my suspicions prove correct, I can’t do a thing about it. Galrock is supported by forces, which we don’t know enough about in order to act. My sister, Laorin, is protected by her innocence. If she tries to oppose Galrock, who’s at the peak of his power, and who’s supported by the ministers and high-ranking army commanders, her life will be at risk. You and I must be on the lookout. In the meantime, we shouldn’t bring the things you told me to her knowledge.”

  “I’m glad I came to you first.”

  “You did well, Nikon,” she said. “I’ll search for the right time to talk to Laorin. In the meantime, let us reinforce ourselves and search for the people we can trust.”

  Soon, she’d tell him about the letters that had arrived to her through the commander of the White Tower, who’d had enough of the unnecessary cruelty employed during interrogations, which he was witness to. What mostly shocked the honest man was forging the prisoners’ confessions in order to sentence them to death or lengthy prison terms. Confused, he approached her to receive advice. She ordered him to bring her some of those letters and was amazed to see the similarity between the snailed writing in those letters and the ones that had distressed her sister so. Was it possible that Galrock and the Blue king’s handwriting were so similar? Halior bundled them together and hid them.

  “Princess.” Nikon stood up and bowed. Many things were said beyond words. Her words instilled in him a deep concern for her and her sister, the queen. He thought it prudent to not stay too long in her headquarters.

  “Nikon,” Halior said. “You’ve spoken with me honestly and courageously. I appreciate your loyalty. Maintain levelheadedness. For your own welfare, for the sake of Anura, and for my sister.”

  Deep in his heart, Nikon knew he was willing to give his life for her. Could he ever tell her what he felt?

  He knew her parents had died an unnatural death. He knew things he could not tell her. He would do everything in his power to protect her and the queen.

  “With your permission, I’ll make sure there are undercover guards watching your and the queen’s rooms day and night,” Nikon said and left her room.

  ***

  Two pairs of White guards marched facing each other. They stopped and raised their weapons. One pair separated, one soldier going left, the other going right. The other pair passed between them and continued marching. It was their shift. The two soldiers who had split once again united and went to their tent for a short nap, before the break of dawn. Their exhaustion didn’t show when they walked. Darkness hid their red eyes. Their perfect movements created a structure as graceful as a dance beneath the half-moon. However, the two of them didn’t know that their dance would end that night.

  Sly eyes followed them, glued to the precise, flawless synchronization between the two guards. A branch rocked up and down. That was the sign. Two black-clad figures silently wrapped themselves around the guards. When they broke away from them, White bodies were left lying on the ground, blood spreading beneath them. The fate of the second pair of guards was similar.

  The black shadows continued uninterrupted. They crawled like geckos and reached the tent closest to them, infiltrated it, and left, crawling to the next tent. The killing spree continued until the first shattered cry of a wounded soldier woke up the silent camp. The Lizards retreated and disappeared.

  The Whites’ confidence suffered a blow. The “Black Demons,” as they called the nocturnal attackers of the camps, appeared in different places that night and during the following nights. Even though the Whites reinforced guard duty, the assailants managed to sneak into the camp and strike uninterrupted. No one dared sleep at night, and during the day, the soldiers were too exhausted to fight.

  The Lizards dropped on their victims from the trees, waited for them in the tents under their blankets, leaped and skipped and whirled in the air, attacked, and then disappeared. At the end of the week, the attacks ceased. Dionun ordered his people to rest, while he planned his next steps. He knew that they wouldn’t be able to continue their attacks forever. Their small numbers forced them to move quickly from one attack to the next, in order to create the impression that they were everywhere. He knew that the panic they’d instilled in the White camps would continue to weaken them and disrupt their activity.

  Now, the Black Demons had to rest and gather their strength for their next attacks. Dionun himself didn’t rest. He’d left to meet Zeek at their agreed-upon meeting place. For some reason, the boy was late in returning. What was delaying him? Concern stole into Dionun’s heart. Perhaps something had happened to him? The boy was quick and skilled, although impatient. Maybe he had gotten into a fight with Tanti or Yoven. Was it possible that he’d betrayed Dionun’s trust and run away?

  Dionun had wanted to follow them and see if he could lay his hands on the mushroom. He needed it now. On the other hand, how could he abandon the battle that he’d worked so hard for?

  His conscience tortured him. He was betraying a friend. Using him. He hated himself for that. On the other hand, he wanted that mushroom. Despite his successes and skills, achieved with so much hard work, he would always remain a black Lizard, crawling and burrowing between the rocks. An outlaw of no status. Worshipped by young, homeless, rejected hooligans. Perhaps his name would be mentioned in the legends. All he needed was one drop of power, which he’d achieve through the mushroom and which would raise his station. The king himself would seek him out.

  A group of Grays passed by at the bottom of the ravine. He noticed their vigorous, determined movement toward the White camp. It was odd and shook him from his thoughts. If he followed them, he might miss Zeek’s arrival, or the possibility of searching for him in the cave if he didn’t return.

  As he lay on the ground at the top of the hill, his black clothes camouflaging him, for the first time in his life, he couldn’t reach a decision.

  ***

  Galrock decided that, this time, he’d attack with all of his troops. He knew that delays and hesitations demoralized his soldiers’ abilities and courage. After consulting with two of his loyal generals, he galloped among the camps, leading his chosen commanders, the Anurian flag in their hands, and arousing the soldiers’ fighting spirit with his proud appearance and ardent words. He talked about their courage, about assured victory, and about generous allowances to the warriors. He knew he had to win this battle, cross the border, and cause the Blues to surrender. For now, the Whites’ numbers were greatly reduced. His attempts to hide the number of fallen and wounded couldn’t continue forever. The appearance of the Black Demons and the dwindling number of White soldiers posed a risk to his power and captainship. Luckily for him, the previous night had passed quietly. The soldiers had received a hearty meal and were sent to rest, while many guards surrounded the camp.

  A group of Grays with twisted faces appeared at the edge of the commanding camp. They demanded to see the White captain of the guard.

  Galrock approached them alone, keeping his commanders away by giving them various assignments. He ordered that the d
elegation sit on the hilltop, where he would see whoever approached and tried to eavesdrop on them. He ordered that they be served their best food and wine, and sat with his two loyal generals before the Swamp Dwellers, for a tedious and intense negotiation.

  Mabul Otonto, the king of the Swamp Dwellers, had come to collect his debt. He demanded the expansion of his living habitat, control of the White and Blue villages, and to be absolved from paying taxes to the White Kingdom’s treasury, as he had been promised. Galrock wanted the Swamp king’s word that, after the battle, the Hayatulaum would be annihilated and there would be no more demands. They signed their treaty with a snailed document and a handshake.

  The next day, Galrock started preparing his army for the big battle.

  ***

  The mail bird that came to the Blue king warned him that the upcoming battle may be the most difficult one before today. Dionun, who had signed the letter, had decided to wait one more night before leaving to search for Zeek. Desire burned in him, yet he didn’t dare desert the battle or his boys, thus preventing them from participating in the fighting they had trained for. He returned to his camp at dawn and sat down to write tiny arrow letters and warn the king about the Whites’ plans.

  King Dark Blue ordered the army to prepare for a difficult battle. Despite his generals’ warnings, he himself visited the camps along the border. Balanter accompanied him as he rode among the camps, dismounted his horse, and walked until the end of the day, talking with the army commanders, shaking their hands, and encouraging them with warm words. He was received everywhere with cheers and hoorays.

  He met Zoded, the commander of the volunteers, weary and sad-eyed. Yet when he took his leave of him, after hearty slaps on the shoulder and praise, the young man’s face filled with light and his back straightened. Balanter smiled when they left the eager volunteers. “Your Majesty,” he said. “I must note that the soldiers love you and appreciate your visit here.”

  “I had to see them with my own two eyes before we send them into battle,” the king said. “And I’m glad I came and saw how brave these young men are. They’re protecting their homes, families, and futures.”

  They were on their way back to the command encampment. In the heart of a small ravine, protected by huge trees and hills of rocks, was a pavilion. That was where the ill and injured lay. Volunteer healers and “Iralu’s Women” tended to them. The king strayed from his path and steered his horse toward the makeshift hospital. Those who could stood up and cheered him. They welcomed him and promised victory. The sights there were difficult. People without limbs, with various body parts bandaged, some crying out in pain, bleeding, or hallucinating. The healers and women tending them gave them potions to ease their pain and gave them food to fortify them. They encouraged their spirits with warm words.

  No one complained. They saw themselves as fortunate to be alive. The king was speechless before them. He touched whoever he could and left after a long time, his eyes moist.

  He’d have liked to promise certain victory—that the war would end soon. But he also knew that after the last battles’ small and big victories, they were weakening in the face of the Anurian army. He hoped for a miracle.

  ***

  This time, the Whites managed to reach the border, as they spread out in a wide, impenetrable line. The Blues, who fought valiantly, were gradually pushed back, their power weakening. The villagers packed their possessions and fled inland.

  The miracle that the king had hoped for appeared in the image of the TransRiver people, led by the giant Martam Og, the blacksmith who had recruited his people, the Forest Dwellers.

  The TransRiver people, who had been annexed to Nautilin for dozens of years, were recognized as subjects equal to the Blues, and were allowed their customs and traditions. Martam Og convinced them that the fate of Nautilin was their fate, and it was about time to show their gratitude to the Blue king, who had always treated them fairly. The TransRiver people, who had always hated the Whites more than the Blues hated them, arrived armed with huge swords that fit the dimensions of their huge bodies, and axes, with which they excelled in fighting. They were joined by the Hue-mans from the Goresh Mountains and the fishermen of the west. Screaming and wailing, they burst forward, on two-wheeled, light chariots, bearded and huge, waving their axes and ruthlessly knocking down rows of Whites. Leading them was the giant, whose sword carved the way, whirling and gleaming in the sun, cutting through rows of Whites and cleaving through their walls of defense.

  The Whites, who only a short while ago had seen their victory as certain, halted when the bearded giants suddenly appeared, joined by the Black Demons, who were the Lizards. The Lizards leaped and whirled in the air, landing on the White soldiers’ backs, obstructing their movements, pushing cavalrymen from their horses, and taking over the animals. It wasn’t long before they crushed the White soldiers’ spirits, who started fleeing in panic.

  By evening, the Blues found themselves deep in Anurian territory, spreading along the Valley of the Edges and claiming their stronghold unhindered.

  The king gathered his staff in order to decide on their next steps.

  They could continue with the attacks and invade the White land, reaching the inland. Another option was organizing a cessation of hostilities. Azium Nasusion suggested sending an elite unit to capture the heads of the Anurian army and forcing them to agree to terms of surrender dictated by the Blue king. The meeting went on for many hours, while expressions of joy were heard from the camp. At night, the Blue camps celebrated. Iralu’s Women arrived with supplies and gifts for the soldiers, from the diligent, concerned women of Nautilin. They brought food and cooking utensils, which were received enthusiastically.

  Iralu, who had also arrived at the camp, met her son Zoded and brought him a letter from his father. Sadness darkened the joy of their reunion and victory when Zoded found out Arisan was missing. She had left his father with the excuse that she had something to do, and that it was extremely important and urgent. She had said that he shouldn’t worry and she’d be back. He didn’t think of stopping her.

  For the first time, the Lizards mixed with the other army men. Dionun allowed his men to stay in the camp until midnight. He knew that later, security would be lax, and the alert Lizards would scatter and keep an eye out from their hiding places. Some of them were sent to follow the Whites. He himself went to sit on a rock, waiting to see if his people would settle in their positions. Tomorrow, he’d retire from the war. He had to reach the Cave of Tears and see what had happened there and why Zeek hadn’t returned.

  Chapter 44

  Mud

  Stars twinkled like jewels in the sky, paling above his head. The screech of an owl broke the silence. Tanti raised his head, trying to understand where he was. He sat down. The movement pained him. He was bruised and battered on many parts of his body. The mountain stood silent and somber beyond the stream. Awareness filled him as he realized he was alive and free and had the mushroom. He put his hand on his chest, where the mushroom was hidden, well-kept between moist clumps of mud. The handful in his hand was a treasure. Could he return to his country now?

  The waterfall emitted its high song. The trickle of the stream flowed quickly on the other side. In the dawning light, Tanti examined his feet, covered by a crusted layer of mud. He remembered the deep cuts caused by the sharp rocks. His knees and hands were full of bruises and gashes. A deep, painful knife gash split his palm.

  His main concern was his bare foot. How would he able to make his long journey while injured? He smoothed his hand over his foot, trying to remove the mud, and felt the cut in his palm burn terribly. The black mud that permeated the cut fizzed and hissed. Before his eyes, the cut healed, and the pain eased. The only thing left was a pale scar. Tanti’s heart sang when he realized the mud from the cave had such strong healing attributes.

  He took a pinch of the mud stuck to his foot and smeared it on anoth
er cut on his arm. The healing process took place immediately. After a thoughtful moment, Tanti ripped a strip from his shirt and started collecting the mud from his feet, his pants, and the cracks of his remaining shoe. When he revealed his bare foot, he saw only scars, which indicated his previous injuries. Hurray! He could walk. He had to protect his bare foot with something, so he’d be able to continue.

  A pale sun peeked out from behind the clouds. A soft pink light colored the mountains. Tanti got up, limping his way to the stream, to bathe in it and refresh himself.

  When he returned from the stream and sat to dry in the sun, he noticed the tip of a foot, lying motionlessly among the pale water reeds. Tanti rushed closer and pushed the reeds aside. Yoven lay on his back, a big bloodstain on his chest. In his hand, he held Tanti’s black scarf.

  “Yoven, Yoven.” Tanti kneeled at his side. He checked his neck for a pulse. He thought he noticed a sign of life, but he wasn’t sure. He hurried to the river, scooped up some water in his hand, and wet Yoven’s lips. He held his hand and continued calling his name, shooing away the insects and flies that buzzed over the cut in his chest. Yoven’s eyes fluttered and opened slightly.

  “Tanti…” he whispered.

  “Yoven, you’re alive!”

  “Be careful, Tanti. Zeek wants you dead.”

  “Is he the one who wounded you?”

  “He won’t have any pity on you.” Yoven tried to lift his head. “I tried. I’m sorry, Tanti. He ran away so quickly.”

  “Just rest and don’t worry,” Tanti said. “Zeek won’t hurt me or you.”

  “He’s armed, you know. The dagger.”

  “Not anymore.”

  A gleam of understanding flashed through Yoven’s eyes. “He’s dead?”

  Tanti nodded.