Journey to Water's Heart

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Journey to Water's Heart Page 43

by Lea Ben Shlomo


  The style of the letter was peculiar. Nikon had received information of the Blues’ dangerous progress toward the northeast villages. Why would the king decide, after achieving an advantage on the battlefield, to retreat and surrender? What happened there that had changed everything? Did the Blues also know that it was impossible to approach the queen and, therefore, made sure that the letter would reach her directly?

  They sat there, discussing the letter. Halior tried to find logic in everything. “Someone risked his life to bring you this letter,” she said. “And he knew exactly how to reach your room without anyone noticing him, and in a way I cannot perceive, he managed to climb the wall and enter through the window, which you say was closed. Fortunately, you woke up and alerted the guards.”

  “Had he wished to harm the queen, he would’ve done it easily,” Nikon said. “It was important to him to deliver the letter to her. Why to her and not to Galrock, who could’ve stopped the fighting immediately?”

  “Maybe he knows something that we don’t know,” Laorin said sadly. “Maybe there were other letters that hadn’t arrived?”

  “I no longer understand who is friend and who is foe,” Halior said, and her sister nodded in agreement.

  “What bothers me is the lack of clarity,” said the queen. She seemed to make up her mind. “From what we discussed, it’s obvious that the Blue king wants to put a stop to the fighting. And I want that just as much as he does. Let’s leave the rest at the moment. I’ll write him a letter immediately. It will gratify me if we manage to stop all these unnecessary deaths right away.”

  Nikon nodded.

  “I agree with you,” Halior said. “Although I’d like to investigate the entrance of the mysterious stranger.”

  “Let’s put the mystery aside for the time being,” Laorin said. “Will you help me, Halior, to write the letter? We must write two letters. One with instructions to Galrock, and in the second one, I’ll write the conditions for stopping the fighting.”

  “Of course, my dear. The question is whether Galrock will follow your orders, or if he’ll find a way to ignore them.”

  “He won’t ignore them this time,” Nikon said. “First, we’ll gather the ministers and read them the Blue king’s letter and our answer. Then I will deliver the letter addressed to Galrock myself.”

  Halior paled. “No, Nikon. Don’t go there.”

  “I know Galrock won’t be pleased to see me,” Nikon said. “In order to ensure the letter reaches its destination, I’ll be accompanied by those loyal to me, and at least two ministers will come with me. It must be done.”

  “One moment,” the queen said. “What about the letter to the Blue king? How will he receive it?”

  “I know a family who has connections with the Blues,” Nikon said.

  “Every crossing of the border is a risk,” Halior said.

  “I have an idea,” Laorin said. She went to the window and opened it. “We will finish the letter to the Blue king in an hour,” she said loudly. “It will be on my table, so I’ll be able to go over it one more time later.”

  Nikon and Halior didn’t understand her behavior, which looked even stranger when the queen came even closer to the open window. “And bring me a light meal,” she said. “I might be hungry after writing and sealing the letter.”

  After that, she closed the window without locking it and returned to the center of the room.

  “Sister, can you explain to me the meaning of this behavior?” Halior asked.

  Laorin smiled. “I’ll explain myself immediately,” she said. “The messenger who brought the letter can deliver our letter in the quickest and safest way. If he didn’t run away when I alerted the guards, he’s still close by.”

  “So you invited him to invade your room again and take the letter?”

  “Hopefully he heard me.”

  “And you added breakfast to the invitation.”

  “He must have come a long way.”

  Nikon laughed quietly. Halior nodded. “You’re hopeless, my sister, the queen.”

  Dawn started breaking. The early birds started chirping.

  “Come, sister,” Laorin said. “Let’s start writing the letter. Nikon, send someone to wake the ministers and bring the news to them. Do what you must do and make sure we’re not disturbed until we finish writing. And don’t forget—”

  “No, I won’t forget. An early breakfast will arrive immediately.”

  Part Four

  Choice

  Chapter 46

  Pancakes

  The sky darkened. A light drizzle started falling, blurring the path before him, hitting his face, and seeping into his collar. Several days ago, Tanti had separated from Yoven, after they had found the passage to Nautilin. Yoven made his way home. Tanti continued south, searching for the shortest way home. He had to ride around the White capital and find the passage through which he had entered Anura. The passage in Anura, from which he’d escaped, was risky. He decided to continue on the Nautilin side and search for a route that would bring him to Izmeran without crossing the border into the White country.

  The road along the border lengthened and passed through a desolate area. His mood was somber, like the weather. He was cold in his wet clothes. His face burned and his body trembled. He swayed on his horse, his eyes heavy, his head drooping forward. He was afraid he’d fall asleep and fall off his horse. Eventually, he dismounted and walked alongside the horse. The rain didn’t stop for a moment. Tanti knew he had to find shelter and rest as soon as possible. He searched for a cave, a tree, or some sort of shelter that would save him from the bothersome drizzle. He was startled when he realized that a long time had passed since he had dropped his horse’s reins without noticing. His legs were soft, as though boneless. Tanti dropped to his knees at the side of the road. He couldn’t take even one more step.

  A creaking noise woke him up. Through the downpour, he noticed a canvas-covered wagon. Dazed and burning with fever, he struggled to rise from the mud, where he’d been lying, and approached the wagon. A waterproof canvas opened beneath his hand. He knew he’d found the shelter he was looking for. With the last of his strength, he clambered up into the wagon, shoving his body through the tough canvas and dropping onto a soft, fragrant mattress. He reached out. A piece of spongy bread was shoved into his fist, which found its way to his mouth. His other hand closed on a sweet, juicy apple. The wagon vibrated slightly and started moving. Its wheels creaked. He heard the whinny of a horse. While he chewed in the darkness, listening to the pitter-patter of rain above him, Tanti thought that he never wanted to wake up from this wonderful dream. He meant to continue the dream until its end.

  In the warm, sheltering darkness, in the gently rocking wagon, he succumbed to exhaustion and his high fever. Lying on sacks of food, one hand flung over his head, the other holding a half-eaten pancake, he fell into a deep sleep.

  He didn’t notice that they’d crossed the border again and didn’t know he’d returned to Anura, where he was wanted as a fugitive. And he didn’t know he was in the Blue king’s food and supply wagon, making its way to the White queen.

  ***

  The Blue king received Queen Laorin’s letter one day after his son was born. There was no one happier than him that day. He held the tiny newborn and couldn’t stop looking at his wrinkled face and his tight fists, red and pressed against his cheeks. The Blue Palace bustled with excitement. Everyone talked about the tiny prince’s birth. Queen Cyan lay exhausted, trying to sleep a bit and gather some strength, before nursing her tiny baby.

  For the first time, Dionun entered through the front door and not through the window. His weariness was evident in his face. The king unwillingly left Cyan, who was putting their son their son to sleep in her arms, and entered his headquarters. He took the snailed letter from Dionun and ordered that Balanter be called. “You outdid yourself this time,” he told Di
onun. “I’ll never forget what you did for Nautilin, you and your boys.”

  He instructed his servants to take care of Dionun, allow him to rest, and regain his strength in one of the palace rooms.

  He didn’t wait for Balanter’s arrival, but started reading the queen’s letter.

  He had to go and stand trial before the White queen. That was the condition for ending the war. He would be judged for his crimes and sins, which led to the war and loss of lives and possessions. After the trial, the queen of Anura would announce the conditions for ending the war, and the conditions for peace and the borderlines.

  This was the most difficult moment for him since the war had begun. He had to reach a bitter, painful decision. He knew his army was exhausted, and that soon he’d have to send his volunteers back home. They weren’t professional soldiers, but hardworking men who had to provide for their families. He assumed Galrock wouldn’t rest until he assuaged his hunger for occupying territories in Nautilin, and that his allies, the Swamp Dwellers, were waiting for an opportunity to restore their wounded pride. The queen, who had initiated the war, was unfairly accusing him of imaginary crimes. Yet he’d go and stand trial before her. If the queen was prepared to end the fighting immediately, he would submit to her conditions. The king chose to save what was left to save, even if he himself would be forced to pay a heavy price. He’d surrender and turn himself in to the White queen.

  Somber and sad, the king sat at the head of the procession of wagons making their way to Anura. He spent another two days with his wife and son, the tiny creature who opened his heart to a fierce love. The king was forced to leave them both, without knowing when he’d return or if he’d ever see them again.

  He didn’t pay attention to the White guard who welcomed them and escorted them to the capital. He didn’t notice the rain had ceased, and hesitant rays of sun shone through the clouds, illuminating and revealing the White capital with its houses, gardens, and lavish towers. He certainly wasn’t aware of the stowaway who had joined his entourage.

  ***

  The old oak tree spread its branches. Its wide canopy observed the hilly slope and the rocky caves facing it. An observation shed, well built, roofed, and comfortably equipped, was concealed among its branches.

  Dionun sat there, observing the valley. The rain was pouring down, some of it trickling into the shed. He’d let his people go rest and relax.

  He lay on the wood bed, lined with dry leaves. He felt tired and and had no energy.

  The White queen, he thought, had looked melancholy and sad when he had seen her in her room. Yet he’d noticed how vibrantly she’d moved; he’d noticed the vitality in every part of her face and body. He’d delivered the letter, and she’d been smart enough to treat it seriously and snail a response. He’d delivered her answer to the Blue king.

  The way there and back was long. The assignment had distracted him from thoughts about the mushroom and the greatness he’d achieve if he laid his hands on it. He’d wizened up from the desire that had taken control of him and went back to commanding his boys.

  The battles had ceased an hour ago. And what now? His heart was bitter and full of disappointment. After everything he and his boys had done, the war was ending with the Whites’ victory. He hated the fact that the battle had been decided by the Swamp Dwellers and their disgusting beasts. Had they not interfered, the war would’ve ended with the Blues’ victory.

  Yoven returned to the camp and told him everything he’d been through and what had happened to Zeek and Tanti. He showed him the scar on his chest, where Zeek had stabbed him in order to kill him. Dionun himself was responsible for Zeek’s death and Yoven’s wound. He’d hurt Tanti, betrayed his trust, and almost abandoned his post in the middle of a war. All that had happened while he’d been under the mushroom’s influence. Now, he was tired, and he felt old and unworthy. He’d assign someone else to command the Lizards. He’d return to his home in Bird Village and enjoy a sweet life of tranquility with his twin sister and beloved nephew, Milo. Maybe after the war he’d go to Ovalina’s house. He’d promised to repair the wall of the well and set up several traps for the rabbit consuming all the flourista in the garden. How had she survived the war? Perhaps she needed his help now, more than ever? He’d astonish her with his stories about the daring deeds of the Lizards. He’d describe the Hayatulaum, those huge beasts driven by human monsters.

  The rain eased up a bit. The clouds started clearing, letting in the light.

  A disturbing thought cut his thoughts short. How did those sick Swamp Dwellers manage to train the Hayatulaum and control them? If they managed to do that, his people would definitely succeed in training them. He’d send a few Lizards to spy on them and on their training method. They’d hunt Yenook at Table Mountain. Yes. Yes. That’s what they’d do.

  These thoughts filled him with energy. His weariness disappeared. He got up, slid down from the shed, and called his boys to gather in the big cave. He knew the idea of riding the Hayatulaum would enthuse them. The next war, he was certain, would end differently.

  Chapter 47

  Blues and Whites

  An entire wing in the palace was cleared of its inhabitants in order to house the Blue entourage. The rooms were lavish, furnished, and well equipped, as befitting a king. Servants were summoned to take care of all their needs and fulfill the requests of the Blue king and his people. The personal service was both convenient and disturbing. Every time a chair moved or there was a crumb on the table, the servants would swoop on them, return everything to its original place, and wipe the stain clean. The royal Blue servants, who’d joined the entourage, found themselves useless and frustrated in a worrisome way. It wouldn’t be long before a brawl broke out between the Blue and White servants.

  The White servants had a hard time fulfilling their roles appropriately when faced with odd and unfamiliar behavior, as well as the hostility of the Blues, who were sick and tired of the Whites interfering in their lives. The White servants’ compensation was observing the Blues from up close and conveying their impressions to interested and curious bystanders.

  “The Blues are loud,” they said. “Vulgar. Informal and unceremonious, unlike what is required when addressing their king. They strew their stuff all over all the time. Their food is strange. Yet the white bread and cheese is their favorite. They are too casual with their king. They come visit him in his room, sit next to him, talk with him, and eat from his table.” And more and more.

  The Blues were allowed to socialize among themselves as much as they liked, and to use the food and supplies they had brought. Yet they couldn’t ignore the fact that they were prisoners. Their compound was surrounded by guards who formed a dense, determined human wall. No one could leave the area assigned to them, or escape.

  A big surprise awaited the king’s men when they unloaded the food wagon and found Tanti Marin, dazed and just as surprised as they were. He didn’t understand where he was or how he had managed to find himself in the Blue king’s room in the White Palace.

  Balanter was the first one to rush to embrace him. The rest of the delegation joined him and flooded him with hugs, kisses, questions, and slaps on the back. Afleck couldn’t contain his tears of joy.

  They told him about the war and under what circumstances they had arrived here. Tanti tried to understand one thing at a time, as they cut into each other’s words and tried to explain why they’d lost despite their victory.

  The Blue king called Tanti to him. “Sit, my friend,” he said, happy to see Tanti, and even happier for the distraction in his dark hours. “Tell me how you arrived here. You’re a fugitive, after all. What made you return to the place you ran away from?”

  “I don’t understand how it happened,” Tanti said. “I remember walking down the road. It was raining.”

  “Ah!” the king said, exchanging a look with Balanter. “It was raining. That explains everything.”
>
  Balanter’s nose started twitching. “You were probably cold too.”

  “I was wet, and the wind froze my bones. I shivered with cold and fever. I searched for shelter yet couldn’t find any.”

  “So a nice wagon stood on the road,” Balanter said. “Right before you. With what little strength you had left, you climbed into it, and there, your distress came to an end.”

  Tanti nodded uncomfortably. “I guess I fell asleep.”

  “On a soft bed of bread,” the king said. “While hugging a fragrant sack of apples.”

  Balanter could no longer control himself. He guffawed, which set off the king and his people.

  The person in charge of the Blue delegation’s lodgings frowned. The prisoner king was laughing heartily. His respectable escorts were slapping each other on the shoulder and roaring with laughter as well. It was a sight he couldn’t understand, like many other quirks his people told him about the Blue king and his people.

  “They’re laughing,” he said to the general in charge of the palace guard.

  “They’re what?”

  “I think so. They’re rolling on the floor, clutching their stomachs.”

  “Perhaps they’ve poisoned their stomachs with the awful food they brought with them.”

  “Pardon me, sir. They’re slapping each other’s shoulders, laughing, and repeating the words, ‘He was hungry’ and ‘It was raining.’ Every time someone says, ‘He fell asleep with half a pancake in his hand,’ they simply lose control and roar with laughter.”

  “Get back there and spy on them,” he said. To himself, he mumbled, “The Blue king can laugh as much as he wants. Soon, he’ll laugh no longer.”

  The Blue king and Balanter knew that they wouldn’t be laughing the next day. They sent their people to their rooms and shut themselves in the king’s room. Tanti was invited to stay as well.

 

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