by Susi Wright
Sparks flew; Espira countered many moves, ducking expertly to avoid others. She knew his mood was dark; this always added excitement to their mundane exercises. She grinned at the new challenge. Lately, it had become a little too easy to best her brother; victory lacked lustre. After all the weeks of restraint, of undeniable boredom, they both needed this.
Ardi feinted skillfully to his right and came up, unexpectedly bringing his blade over his head and down with all his might.
She countered, followed through, but the impact knocked the sword from her hand. Rolling to the ground she retrieved it, back on her feet in an instant. Ardi swore loudly, a curse only the soldiers used. He lunged in again, a forward thrust. She sidestepped and, slightly off balance, threw her sword-arm up to compensate; Ardi enveloped and flicked her blade from her grasp with his. She was disarmed. There! According to the rules, that was the end of it. But Ardi had fire in his eyes and with a sudden upward slash, he cut her.
Espira's smile faded as she felt the sting in her upper arm, a decent gash. Warm blood trickled through her fingers as she held her other hand over the cut. She stood motionless, staring at him in disbelief, trying to absorb the reality that the first wound of her life had been at her own brother's hand! Cutting someone in an exercise was reprehensible. As if that in itself was not bad enough, she was certain it had not been an accident.
Ardientor glared, defiant, aware that he had just overstepped the bounds of honour, meeting his sister's eyes with a victorious gleam in his. There was more skill in giving her a harmless scratch with that final slash, than in cutting off her arm!
Her incredulous gaze held, glittering with censure. Why?
He simply shook his head disdainfully, not deigning to explain or apologise. Turning on his heels, he sheathed his sword, scooped up his air-cloak and flung it around his shoulders. Without a backward glance, he took off on a summoned breeze into the forested hills to the west.
Stunned, Espira watched him go, clutching her injured arm. A sudden sense of foreboding assailed her, well-aware that under present circumstances, she had no hope of influencing his mood, or tracking him. She wondered at the real bounds of the edict.
O Papa! He can't go too far . . . can he?
Chapter 8 : THE LAST OUTPOST
Fine drizzle and fog shrouded the high towers of the fortress.
The last outpost of the Known World, Yengi was situated in the foothills of the Impossible Mountains, built two hundred years ago, according to legend, by a mad king who thought he could invade the lands beyond those peaks to extend his territories. He used captured slaves to build the citadel and ruled from there with an iron fist, eventually installing a council of overlords while he led a large force into the mountains to capture Morvia. He and his army perished. When he did not return to keep order in his kingdom, the overlords squabbled and fought, were overthrown by a coup, and his remaining subjects made the fortress their new home. The new leadership, fair and just, had sustained their safety through the ages with little disruption.
In a sheltered vale of the foothills, the land surrounding the citadel had always been suitable for agriculture, long tilled and tended by the descendants of those people. Apart from a very cold but short winter, the climate here allowed for a very productive growing season. The Yengians laid up adequate stores of food for the winter months and had plenty to trade with southern cities and towns for most of the year.
In recent years, this predominantly peaceful people had heard of the Gaian lord, Luminor, his clan and rumours of the Alliance. News of the arrival of the Baramese army, delivered by an advance company of two Gaian fliers, was received with a certain amount of curious awe.
Hence, the gates were opened to welcome the famous lord and his forces, warming fires were lit and dozens of food-laden tables laid out for their comfort and refreshment. Important visitors were rare, let alone with an entire army.
The Yengi council of six met Lord Luminor as he brought his warriors to land in the large central square, and the ground forces on their proud samblars filed in through the gates, an impressive sight despite being muddy and wet.
Xandor, Sumar and Dak joined Commander Stolis and a young Morvian soldier, flanking Luminor as representatives of the Alliance.
An orange-robed man with long greying hair and a moustache to match stepped forward from a row of similarly-dressed officials.
“Lord Luminor, I extend a welcome to you and your company on behalf of the council and people of Yengi. I am Councillor Jonas, official spokesman and, I must say, happy to finally meet you. Your reputation precedes you – even in this remote place!” He smiled and inclined his head respectfully.
“Thank you Councillor Jonas, for such hospitality. My men are in need of food and rest before we attempt to cross the mountains.” Luminor placed his hand over his heart. He was grateful for a warm reception. There would be a brief respite here before the rigours of the crossing, and what lay beyond.
“Oh . . . is that what you intend . . . to cross the mountains?” Jonas looked concerned. “The messengers informed us your visit was friendly. I had thought you might be en route to the western coast. The arrival of such a large company naturally arouses curiosity!” A mild smile did not smooth the disquiet from his eyes. “Please instruct your men to avail themselves of the comforts we have provided. Meanwhile – I think a private meeting with the Council would be advisable, my friend. We will hear more about your quest, in our meeting room.” His smile was friendly. “Please come with me.”
He paused briefly, including Luminor's immediate company with a sweep of his hand. “Your officers can join us shortly, of course!”
Jonas waited while Luminor gave brief instructions to his men, then ushered him towards a heavy wooden door on the far side of the courtyard. The other five officials, in their bright flowing robes, closed in behind to follow them through the doorway and up the stairs, into a regal chamber.
The room was lit by several tallow wall torches. In the centre was a large table made from a giant slab of iron-wood which, weathered and shiny from use, looked as old as the fortress itself. Along its length, supper was set out for at least a dozen people. Six tall candles illuminated a sumptuous array of food.
Jonas seated Luminor at one end as guest of honour. The councillors sat along one of the benches, leaving the opposite side of the table free. Some cordial talk about the weather and the army's journey filled the few minutes until Xandor and the others returned. They took up the empty spaces at the table.
Once they were seated, Jonas began the introductions. “This is our esteemed council of Yengi. We go by first names only, for we are all lowly-born, equal in our service on this assembly – we leave all status behind when we take office.” He indicated the members in turn. “This is Kal, Horas, Deni, Rolo and Tomas. I am spokesman since diplomacy is my strength. As you know, there has been no monarch since the mad king, Tordel, and his army disappeared into the mountains. And we have done very well without one. The six of us have been elected to the job for the last eight years. Three of us were previously priests.” He exchanged a brief glance with the other assembly members and beamed proudly.
Luminor inclined his head. He detected no discontent with the government here and, judging by the ample meal being laid out before them by the servants, there were no shortages. The councillors appeared to have true intention in their efforts to govern. This isolated outpost thrived and, apparently, they had come to all this without any help. He was impressed.
Jonas' eyed the unusual Morvian features of one of his six guests with concern. Pushing his chair out, he stood up, taking several paces away from the table.
“We have heard a little about the Alliance . . . it is gaining ground. You have come a very long way, and you mentioned going further still . . .” His eyes strayed out of the open window to the misty view of the dark peaks which towered behind the fortress. His tone became sceptical. “Do you, by any chance think we might need help here . . . or seek to con
vert us to your cause? I guess you will not overthrow us, for with the forces you have with you, and your famous talents, you would have accomplished that already and we would not be sitting here now!”
Luminor smiled ruefully. He had expected a few suspicions. “I am governor of Baram, Lord of the Gaian clan. I do not seek to conquer or convert. Have you not heard that my offers of help have all been unconditional?
“All who have joined the Alliance did so by choice. King Rolin still reigns over Lealand. He is my ally and friend. I look upon myself as a guide and protector, not a ruler. In Baram, all matters of state are consulted upon with the council, for the good of all.” He did not need to wax on the merits of the Alliance nor enter into debate, satisfied he had allayed Jonas' apprehensions.
“These are my right hand men, Xandor, Sumar and Dak who lead my warriors. Commander Stolis and chief-of-staff, Jimbu, organise the human-Morvian contingent. We have already journeyed for three weeks, and the weather has not been our friend for most of it. This is only the start of a very difficult mission.”
Luminor sensed strong curiosity and continuing cynicism from the Yengi council members. There was something else too – anxiety. He had not missed the way Jonas had looked at Jimbu. “This citadel is very close to the mountains. Have you encountered Morvians before? Do you know how they suffer now in their native land? Some have escaped by some miracle, made it through these mountains and have now found protection in Baram.” Luminor made eye contact with the Yengi spokesman. “Jonas, did any come here, asking for sanctuary?” His perceptive green eyes held no threat.
Jonas' face was impassive. He had been surreptitiously studying the unusual physical traits of most of his guests, noting there was only one human among them. The eyes of these Gaians, every pair a different glowing colour, were oddly compelling. And the Morvian was plain strange all over, but he had seen that before.
Luminor noticed a flash of guilt in the man's emotion, reluctance, before Jonas succumbed to the insistent gaze and answered.
“A few have come this way, recently, yes. Just a handful, mind you! Before that – years ago – the first ones turned up in the night, brought secretly to the council by one of our watchmen. It was a family of four, half-starved . . . couldn't speak a word of human. We hid them for a day or so, gave them food. But word got out and there was too much opposition. Many of the people here were not ready for such strangeness. There was an uprising. We could not let them stay. They were sent off, escorted by armed guards for protection – like those after them – on the road south. It was for the best!”
That family, probably the first ever to have survived crossing the Impossible Mountains, could well have been his dear friend Melu's. Affectionately, he recalled how he had argued until he was nearly blue in the face with the loyal Morvian. It had taken great perseverance to convince him to stay home this time with his ailing wife, to reassure him he had already served the Alliance admirably as its Envoy, that with only one hand, his time for soldiering was over and the best place he could now serve was at home.
While his Yengian hosts wondered at his silence, he smiled to himself, recalling when he met Melu and first experienced a story told in mind-pictures. There had been images of a walled city without a name.
Here was a fortress and Jonas had admitted seeing two adults and two children, refused proper sanctuary because perhaps it had been too dangerous. But without protection, they had gone on to suffer terrible mistreatment at the hands of other ignorant humans.
Luminor kept his expression neutral as his gaze swept from Jonas over the line of Yengi council members. He was grateful for the safe passage of Melu's family out of this city, away from the dangerous element here. However his overall opinion of these people was dubious. As proud as you are of your progress, my friends . . . there is much still to be learned by your people, I think.
While it seemed that Jonas and the others were polite and forthcoming, Luminor remained wary. Men in power, for all their outward platitudes, often tended to be capricious.
Jonas was anxious to change the subject. “Tell me about the quest. Why do you intend to go into the mountains? Why now? No sane leader marches anywhere with winter approaching! The last one to try crossing the mountains with an army was the mad king, and we all know what happened to him! I did not take you for a madman, Lord Luminor!” Jonas' teasing smile was intended to take the edge off the slight. He was a diplomat after all.
Ignoring the jibe, Luminor went on with questions of his own. “Has not a single one of your recent Morvian visitors, however brief the encounter, been able to explain the reason for their escape? Do you know they have special gifts? Perhaps they were too afraid to try . . . or you, too dense to see it!
“Morvia is under siege, as we speak. Unspeakable atrocities are being rained upon an innocent race. If nothing is done, and quickly, there will be genocide! As custodian of the Alliance, I have a duty to help our Morvian brothers. I am aware this rescue mission will not be without cost. We are not unprepared. There have already been losses. Only two of more than a dozen men returned from the first attempt. They found a way out of the mountains, west of here. Those two Gaian warriors will serve as our guides through the shifting passes.”
Luminor came to his feet and moved away from the table, smiling tightly at Jonas. “And . . . I am far from mad, my friend. In fact, I am absolutely certain we will succeed in rescuing as many of those beleaguered people as Fate will allow. I think you underestimate who we are – who I am! I am well aware it will not be easy.” Luminor's voice held innate power in its softness. His commanding eyes glittered with the passion of his commitment and unquestionable confidence.
Jonas stood as if frozen to the spot; the other councillors sat in stunned silence. None of the six had ever encountered one with such powerful presence. Some of them exchanged wary glances. In truth, they were all a little cowed by their guest, even though he had not particularly intended it. Conscience pricked. They regretted not doing more to help the Morvians who had turned up here. It had been the easy way out to send them off, because they all valued their political popularity. Not so noble.
Luminor read the Yengians. Two of them were painfully embarrassed. He was satisfied – for the time being. These men were essentially good. Conscience alone would inspire them to be better leaders, more now than ever.
Jonas seemed to recover first, eager to smooth over any offence he might have caused. The Gaian lord showed no emotion, but he was famously endowed with strange magic and it would not be wise to get on the wrong side of that. Jonas had never been able to see good reason for making enemies, even human ones; his diplomacy as Yengi's spokesman, more than the isolated position of the city, had saved them from conflict many times in the past.
“Lord Luminor, I must apologise. I can see you are extremely honourable and focussed, never insane!” There was self-derision in his smile. “That was unworthy on my part. So, you will not be dissuaded from your quest?” Jonas did not wait for a spoken reply. The answer was in Luminor's steady gaze. There was something in the Gaian's eyes, untold power, which brought Jonas to a conclusion. If anyone could succeed in this daunting rescue mission, it would be this warrior-lord!
There was a brief conference with his fellow councillors and when Jonas spoke, the hint of cynicism was still in his voice. “You and your men are welcome to rest here for a few days. This is a prosperous city – our coffers and stores are very healthy. The Yengi council would be agreeable to supply you with provisions and furs for your journey. Some payment would be appreciated, however.” He met Luminor's eyes and raised his eyebrows, receiving an affirmative nod in return. “No doubt, you know it is always winter up there . . . it just get worse! There are endless avalanches and landslides to confound even the most competent wayfarer!” He finished with an ominous tone that smacked heavily of superstition. “Lord Luminor, I hope your powers are as great as they say! The Impossible Mountains were named so for a reason. Those mountains are alive . . . as
mystical as they are terrible, as cunning and evil as any foe on the battlefield!”
Luminor was inclined to agree, for his own reasons.
“Yes, I believe many Morvian refugees have been lost up there. Apparently the passes change every day. It will take much more than good luck to make the crossing. Three human members of our first rescue party, and two of their samblars, perished from the cold on the return. Thank the Ancestors, the two warriors who survived did so by making use of the samblar carcasses for food and wrapping the hides around their bodies for extra warmth. They navigated with Gaian sense of direction, flying over the snow and crevasses on calm days and sheltering in caves during the night-blizzards, under the warmth of their air-cloaks. And, like crows, they know the way back to Morvia!” finished Luminor with the flash of a smile. He offered his hand to the spokesman and Jonas grasped arms, wrist to wrist, as was the Yengi custom to seal an agreement.
Luminor turned to the council members at the table. “Thank you all. The journey has been long and we are out of rations. Without your kindness, we certainly could not attempt the crossing. Commander Stolis will see to your payment. Now, we shall be prepared. We leave in two days time, after the men and animals are rested.”
Luminor had noticed a flicker of dissension on their arrival into the city. The people here had heard of Gaians, but never met any. His warriors were more than capable of looking after their own safety. However, Yengi dealings with Morvians so far, showed a great deal of prejudice. In some quarters, it persisted. This was one concern he could not ignore.
“About our Morvian soldiers . . .”
Jonas looked thoughtful before replying. “I take a chance here, ” he raised his eyebrows to his colleagues and received five quick nods in reply, “To assure you, we know who the worst troublemakers are. Your Morvians will come to no harm in Yengi. You have my word that you are all safe here!” He went to the door, stepped outside and spoke to a guard on duty, a quiet order to post a constant armed guard on the barracks as a precaution.