by Serena Whynd
The next three rivals in the battle, now that they knew the warriors were present, were more prepared to mount an attack, yet they were not skillful enough to out wrestle the Amazons or to save their own lives. Soon they were lying in a pool of their own blood on the leaf-covered forest floor. The remaining Zals dared not perform anything other than a resolute escape. They were far enough from the warriors to quickly disappear into the nearest overgrown bushes.
The whole fight lasted only a few seconds. The robber did not fully realize what was happening until the battle was over. Speed and agility, he had witnessed: the Amazons were known for these qualities. Along with an entirely explosive surprise factor, these skills were sufficient to disable much more numerous enemies. The grace that they had displayed in those few short movements, their fitness, and lightness of arm and leg could be more easily compared to some dances than to a bloody struggle.
Jacqueline was prepared to run for the other beasts until she heard Shalmar’s voice:
“Wait! He is badly wounded but he will survive if we help him.”
“Well, you help him, I’m going after them.”
“No! We are not splitting up! They could set up an ambush.”
“But, they could also double back to surprise us. With reinforcement!”
“I said no splitting up!”
Jacqueline frowned and returned the sword to the scabbard behind her back. She did not like her older colleague’s decision. She considered herself sufficiently skilled and wise enough to avoid an ambush.
Shalmar didn’t want to take the risk. Even when they discovered that the statuette was in the hands of the two Zals that had escaped, she did not regret her decision. She firmly believed that it was essential to maintain caution in such a hostile environment. In her eyes, two warriors were at least five times more powerful than one, yet the chances of catching these beasts was slim. They were much faster than humans, especially when running on familiar grounds.
Shalmar focused her attention on treating the wounded man. Tending his gashes took about 15 minutes, and her patience was wearing thin. Although the robber was still visibly frightened and ghastly pale, Shalmar decided it was time to get some answers.
“Who is paying you?” she asked firmly.
“W-what?” In his fear, Dlenn could not concentrate on her question, but Shalmar’s pressure on the wound brought him back to reality.
“Who hired you for the palace theft?”
Only then did it occur to him that these warriors were not a part of some routine rescue mission. The events of the robbery came flooding back to him, and he remembered that he had been a persecuted individual before he became the Zals’ hostage.
“Ouch! I do not know; I really do not know who it was!”
“Listen to me. Wounds hurt twice as much if reopened.” With these words, Shalmar ran her knife gently along the skin next to Dlenn’s fresh wound.
“No, no! I swear I do not know! I met the person only twice! Came to me in the night, on the street, both times. Wrapped in a robe, a hood covered the head. The first time, offered me a job. The second time, we made secret plans to raid the castle. Told me of the passages. Paid me in advance! That’s all, I swear!”
Shalmar took the fear on the criminal’s face to be a guarantee that he was telling the truth. Slightly more stable, but still terrified, he repeatedly thanked the girls. He then obeyed their advice to return the way they themselves had come and to seek further medical attention in Rheyn. They told him to get lost for good and promised that if they ever saw him again, they would ensure he was locked up in the harshest prison with the strongest chains.
The warriors were not pleased to have to let the thief go, but the statuette was their priority. It would take the two of them together to take down the Zals and recover it.
“I probably could have had the statuette in my hands by now.” Jacqueline could not hide her displeasure at Shalmar’s decision not to segregate, “and besides that, we have not found anything that we did not already know.”
Shalmar took a deep breath and exhaled. Although she had her back turned to the younger warrior, Jacqueline could see that her complaint had annoyed her companion.
“Yes, we did. We now know for sure that the client was someone within the Queen’s inner circle. And few people, no more than five in total, know the secret passages inside the castle.”
After a short delay, Shalmar turned, faced her colleague, and stated coldly, “If I see or hear even one more sign of insubordination from you during this investigation, I will make sure that you do not achieve even the slightest progress in our warrior order—until the end of your career.”
Although she held her stern gaze strong, Shalmar felt uncomfortable disciplining the young blond warrior. However, she knew it was her responsibility to ensure this mission went according to plan. Knowing how she felt about this new warrior, she had taken it upon herself to keep Jacqueline safe. “Not that she needs any taking care of. She can more than handle herself,” Shalmar thought as she walked away, taking another deep breath and exhaling slowly.
Jacqueline swallowed her pride along with her rebuttal. Feeling confused about the look that had just passed between them, Jacqueline found herself wishing, for a brief moment, that this was all over. More than anything, she wanted to sort out what it was she was feeling for her powerful yet calm partner.
The Amazons moved on to the north, treading over the forest floor almost soundlessly as they followed the clues of broken branches and trampled bushes left by the two frightened Zals. The creatures had been careless enough to leave behind a path of crushed leaves that was visible even in the heavy darkness of the gloomy forest. Indeed, although it was often challenging to distinguish night from day under the denseness of the tree canopies, it was evident that night had fallen. The cold was growing uncomfortable, and the fur coats provided less and less protection from the cool air as the night wore on.
Treading through the darkness, the girls grew frustrated, often running into places that seemed to lead nowhere. It was as if the forest itself was purposefully building walls of thick leaves and branches of thorny plants to slow their progress. Many of these plants were difficult to name and did not resemble any species with which they were familiar in the southern regions. Thanks to the Zals’ traces, the women could occasionally see the path, and knew they were on the right track. However, at other times, they had to use their swords to clear themselves a passage.
The search lasted all night and led them across the borders of their country, to the northeastern end of the forest.
“Now we have really stepped deep in Ro-oth. We’re miles away from the northern border of Gilsk” Shalmar concluded.
In that moment, Jacqueline realized that she had crossed the borders of their country and hadn’t even noticed. It was also the most they had spoken since Shalmar had reminded her who was giving the orders on this mission. The war, which had lasted most of her life, did not allow most citizens to move to other countries, and blocked most land access to Karnieg or Koron. It was much easier to travel by sea, at least for those who could afford such expensive transport.
“The traces lead us further to the north,” Jacqueline added.
“Yes, to the Cursed Mountain, the nesting ground of all Zal tribes.”
The wild country of Ro-Oth was a most uncomfortable place, entirely inappropriate for human life. It was attractive only to hunters, who dared not set foot on its soil except in large, well-armed groups.
Most of the animals that roamed the barren lands of Ro-Oth were bloodthirsty. The Zals were a particular threat because of their cruelty. The land was divided into three areas: Zal Forest, Cursed Mountain, and Grall Swamp. It was difficult to say with certainty which of these areas was more uncomfortable to move through or spend any time in.
“How in hell are we supposed to find the tribe that these damn beasts belong to?” Jacqueline griped, presenting a new problem.
“I suspect that the two of t
hem will join the first tribe they find.”
Although Zal tribes were usually in war with each other, they were also ready to accept opponents into their groups. The Zals the warriors sought would be easily accepted because they carried such a beautiful and valuable item. Manic admiration of tools, weapons and various art forms used by humans were characteristic of Zal tribes. These behaviours also confirmed their strong desire to be as similar to humans as possible, apparently resulting from a strong subconscious sense of intellectual inferiority.
The Amazons trudged through the night. Further travel the next morning proved somewhat more tolerable, and the two comrades made slow and steady progress through the lowest hillsides of the vast mountain range. It was easier to spot the tracks in the daylight, despite the rockier soil in this region. Although the girls could have progressed more rapidly, they moved with a sense of caution. There was always the possibility of being ambushed by the Zals they were pursuing, or a local tribe. The third option was assault by some other type of wild animal. The latter situation unfolded as the mid-afternoon sun moved overhead.
Red Bear, a massive but cumbersome animal, appeared almost out of nowhere, blocking their path. However, the Amazons were ready, having anticipated an attack of some kind. They managed to confuse him amongst the rocks and avoid the attack. Both were grateful not to have to exert more energy than needed. The lack of sleep and food was starting to wear on them.
The frequent rushes of adrenaline and opportunities to test her skills thrilled Jacqueline, who realized that she was beginning to have far less regret for having agreed to this expedition. However, she still yearned for this mission to end; despite its excitement, she believed that only real battlefield experience would make her feel like a true Amazon warrior.
Her companion was, on the other hand, hoping that young Jacqueline would not have to experience the hells of war, and that it would soon come to an end. But she was losing hope. The cursed statuette had managed to slip away from her hands twice in one day. She knew that the Gondorians would not have a lot of patience and that this stalemate—one in a series of short and fragile states of truce—might be interrupted at any moment. If it had not been disrupted already in their absence.
As the warriors walked, the landscape continued to change. Tripping over the rocky ground, they realized they could no longer handle their exhaustion. They had not enjoyed a single night’s sleep in the past two days. In the saddle and on foot, they had maintained a state of cautious alertness. They felt that a lack of concentration now could become perilous: they would not be fit to fight if the need arose.
“We will take rest here.” Shalmar gestured towards a hollow place under a large rock, suitable for catching a bit of sleep. Jacqueline was looking pale and tired, and Shalmar reached over and gently touched the young warrior’s arm. Shivering slightly from the warmth of Shalmar’s touch, Jacqueline took a deep breath to steady herself. It was the first time either of them had purposefully made contact with the other. It was almost as if they were trying to avoid touching, to prevent the emotion between them from surfacing. Jacqueline turned slowly and looked into Shalmar’s green grey eyes. For a brief moment, they did not speak. It was becoming obvious that the energy being shared between them was more than just that of colleagues with a joint purpose. Shalmar touched Jacqueline’s cheek lightly; Jacqueline closed her eyes and pressed her face into the warmth of Shalmar’s palm. Shalmar felt a deep, familiar love awakening within her. The prophet had told Shalmar about this years ago. The soul that she had, many lifetimes ago, been connected to in such a way that no other would ever compare would join her again in this world. Shalmar had had many visions of the feisty Amazon woman that would return as a huge part of her life. Shalmar sighed gently. Now was not a good time to let herself get distracted. There was tremendous danger around them, and she needed to be alert. “Go rest. We have much ahead of us,” she said, letting her hand drop, and regretting it as she did. Jacqueline opened her eyes. Their shoulders brushed slightly as Shalmar passed by to take turn at guard.
*** CHAPTER 4 ***
Jacqueline had fallen asleep almost immediately. Unfortunately, just before their decision to rest, a group of Zals had spotted them. The beasts surrounded them slowly and attacked as soon as they saw Jacqueline was still.
Shalmar acted quickly. She managed to wound one of them as she called to Jacqueline. One of them hit her hard on the back with his hand, knocking the wind out of her, his claws cutting her skin. Jacqueline tried to rise, but quickly realized that the enemy had pressed her down with what looked like a large tree stump and she knew she could not disable more than one Zal from this position. The rocky terrain was very unsuitable for most of the tricks she knew.
Fortunately, these Zals did not behave violently. They did not seem to intend to kill the two on the spot. Shalmar winced at the stinging cuts on her back as the Zals grabbed her tightly by the wrists and threw her roughly between them. As a large Zal threw Jacqueline from his shoulder to land hard on the ground beside Shalmar, Jacqueline noted the wound on Shalmar’s back and felt herself become angry. Shalmar gave Jacqueline a slight movement of her hand signaling her to keep it calm. Shalmar knew right now was the time to allow herself to think and rest on the walk. The right time to strike would reveal itself soon enough.
“Well? What the hell do we do now?” Jacqueline asked out loud, and immediately received a reply:
"Forward! See King Gru-Kath!" one of the Zals ordered in a characteristically short sentence. They pushed the Amazons in front of them and marched on.
***
Fat Zal King Gru-Kath was sitting on a large rock. With a devious smile, he watched the troupe of Zals approaching him with two captives. The rock on which he sat was higher than all the other stones around it, decorated with objects that most humans would consider trash, most likely left behind by hunters, or perhaps stolen from the southern ends of the Zal Forest. Under his behind, he had a torn and dirty pillow that had, apparently, once provided great comfort to someone's head.
Almost identical smiles to that worn by the King swept across the faces of the two savages hiding behind him. They were the two Zals the Amazons had been seeking. In fact, one of them was still wearing Dlenn’s bag. But the statuette was now in the hands of a tribal king, as a reward for the Warriors' capture.
On the same rock, next to the King, stood four Zals: his protection. Without them, despite his massive size, he would not have any authority. Any Zal eager for power, dominion or who simply yearned for his shiny things could easily overthrow his position on the throne.
A dozen more of these primitive creatures, mostly females, children and elderly Zals, watched the incoming group from other rocks. The Zals were impossible to tell apart, regardless of age or gender. They were all equally creepy, prone to chuckling, wild jumping when excited, and screaming in thick, booming voices.
Their village was not much different from any other on the Cursed Mountain. Together with the Royal Rock, there were only other bare rocks. They represented the Zals’ chairs, tables, beds and everything else.
When the prisoners approached his rock, the King leaned forward in order to observe them more closely.
“Oh! Beautiful warrior girls!” he shouted, for the whole village to hear. “Shame to eat!”
The King’s cheesy smile made the warriors’ stomachs turn. His scruffy nature, decaying teeth, and dirty mouth made Gru-Kath even more repulsive than the other members of his species.
“They killed friends!” The Zal who sat on the King's left side jumped up. “Must Die!”
The King’s Guards reacted to the eager Zal’s tone. One of them approached, grabbed a shoulder of the angry new member of the tribe with his hand, and forced him to retreat.
“You promised…” the disappointed Zal murmured sadly, watching the King’s eyes with an expression of despair.
“Graaar! I am the King! I decide!” The King suddenly raised his hands, clenching his fists.
&nb
sp; A stone statuette of a winged man appeared in his right hand. Tarlaeth had finally revealed itself to the Amazons.
In an effort to express his rage, the King began to rise, forgetting that his legs could not carry him as comfortably as in his early days. He weighed a great deal more now. Realizing that he looked a bit ridiculous, he slammed his fists on the rock, fortunately not damaging the statuette, but smashing an old platter before him that was filled with bones. Human eyes could quickly recognize that the platter was actually an old, rusty barrel lid. The round metal object jumped, rang and rolled off a cliff.
The other Zals on the rocks raised the tension by jumping and screaming like crazy. The noise was almost unbearable. This kind of uncontrolled rage would frighten almost anyone. However, Amazons were well trained to overcome their fear. Shalmar and Jacqueline had made an effort to stay focused in this environment of deranged beasts who were ready to tear them apart. They carefully observed the placement of the hairy creatures on the rocks—especially the King’s Guards—and calculated which places were most suitable for an escape. They even considered the possibility of an attack, and of taking the statuette out of the King’s hands.
The two savages who had fled earlier and had joined the tribe apparently felt that in exchange for Tarlaeth, they had earned the right to enjoy some Amazon flesh. The King had decided to betray this deal even before he had made it. He was considering the possibility of keeping the two Amazons as his personal toys. They would be fun to occasionally torture. But these two servants would likely provoke in his other subjects a constant desire to make off with such valuable prey. This, of course, would increase the odds of more frequent riots. Another idea that crossed the King’s mind was to give the girls to his most loyal servants, his four personal guards. Their loyalty had to be continuously strengthened—bought, really.