by Susi Wright
The environment around the camp was rocky and barren, rations were low and this night they would be cold, because firelight or smoke might be spotted by the enemy. Fortunately, they weren't too hungry. The previous night had seen their bellies full of warming stew. Serendipity provided six mountain-goats which wandered near the camp, right within range of the archers. The discomforts of the present stop and dry biscuits for supper could now be endured.
This was the last chance for rest before their entry into hostile territory. When dawn came, they would begin a treacherous descent down almost sheer cliffs when they would have little to rely apart from their own riding ability and the supremely sure-footed samblars.
Shortly after dark, the men were so exhausted they found sleep quickly, despite the cold. They were up again before first light to feed their animals with the last meagre rations of grain.
As the suns rays crept over the plateau, they followed the example of their Gaian brothers, breaking off into various groups to hunt for rock-beetles and lizards. For the youngest human soldiers, it was the first time in their lives they had eaten such things, but hunger has a way of opening the mind. The insects and small reptiles were quickly consumed raw and no one questioned it, ready within an hour to move out.
The scouts found a narrow goat track leading off the mountain. It was so steep the samblars had to be led single file for quite a way before it widened out, so the men could mount and ride for a distance.
After two hours of careful walking, it still seemed they had not made much downward progress, when the path turned sharply back on itself. One by one, they had to dismount again to lead the animals safely along a rocky precipice which dropped down in a series of hairpin bends. Luckily, the majority of samblars were plucky as well as sure of foot. Even the nervy young ones, recently given to the Cymbians, took heart in the confident lead of their new handlers as they followed the others.
The line of men and animals left the plateau and edged along the track down the cliff face. The stocky yak-beasts, being led at the rear, were much slower, but they were very familiar with mountainous terrain and reliably kept their footing.
The earth-movers could only afford a little assistance, since they wanted to avoid triggering a major landslide and possibly losing the entire army off the edge of these unpredictable mountains.
Hours of meticulous progress eventually took its toll on a few samblars, so exhausted they tripped and fell to their deaths. Some riders were quick enough to leap free, but one unlucky fellow went over the side with his mount when a ledge gave way, taking part of the track with it.
One foot in front of the other, the line trudged steadily downwards for the rest of the day and, as daylight began to fade, the last men, samblars and pack animals made it off the mountain alive.
As the company gathered in exhausted silence at the base of the cliffs, they sadly acknowledged that some had not been so lucky. However, the rest was brief. With darkness falling, it was necessary to find a place to hide and camp in these foothills.
An easy furlong's ride took them to a wooded valley which would provide suitable cover for the night. No Zorgs had been sighted.
Again, no fires were lit, but now they were out of the mountains the climate was much warmer. It remained to be seen how the weather in this strange land behaved, though the Morvian soldiers claimed it bore similarities to various regions in the Known World, which they had visited during their service in the Baramese army.
With the night-watch set, men gathered in smaller groups to share a meal of small crustaceans, which their Morvian and Cymbian comrades harvested by trawling empty burlap sacks in a nearby river.
The mild, clear evening in this secluded place allowed for some well-earned relaxation and a perfect opportunity for a traditional Telling. Certainly, there would be no time for such entertainment for many a night after this. The company gathered around four men, who were renowned for their storytelling; each took a turn to relate his view of the crossing of the Impossible Mountains. Two versions, with the embellishment of some very dark humour, turned out to be hilarious. Of course, every soldier present had his own private memories that would last a lifetime. It could not be ignored that some had already lost close friends. But, a bit of entertainment never went amiss in testing times.
The Cymbians hovered close to their leader, observing the tradition with interest, although some of them chose not to join their comrades who were seated cross-legged on the ground. They were nursing extremely sore rear-ends.
At Shuul's invitation, Ji had happily assumed the job of passing on his knowledge of samblar-handling. The previous night, relaxed by diluted mead, Shuul's natural charm and apparently innocuous curiosity, Ji had also divulged a great many details about his adoptive family, Gaians in general and his supremely gifted uncle. He had even mentioned the existence of his highly-empowered hybrid cousins, and because it was usually uppermost in his mind, the beautiful Espira. That had been prompted by a turn in conversation, as to how Shuul and the others missed their women-folk. Secure in the belief that Cymbians would have no knowledge of the complications involved in his life, he could not resist telling someone how he had set his cap for her alone, and would one day win her affection.
Of course, his words were not lost on Cymbian ears, particularly Shuul's. Finally given this sympathetic audience and quite passable at speaking Morvian, Ji waxed poetic about the object of his extreme affection. And once he started talking of the woman who filled his dreams, his passion carried him along and there was almost no stopping him.
“Espira is the most beautiful, special woman in all Existence! She is Lord Luminor's daughter – ,” the look he gave Shuul was desperately intense, as if that fact alone made her some kind of princess, or at least completely out of reach, “ – the very reason, I am here! As you can see, I am only human. I need to prove my worthiness, before I feel ready to ask for her hand. She's half human, but Essie resembles her father in many ways, with golden hair and unique eyes that sparkle all the colours of the rainbow . . . and special talents that surpass most Gaians!
“Physically, she is stronger than she looks, skilled with sword and bow, but it is her magic that is most amazing! Some say she might one day be even more powerful than Lord Luminor – but nothing is certain yet, with the half-blood children. She is the first hybrid in history!”
After gushing about Espira, Ji went on to briefly describe other beautiful women he knew in Baram.
This was pleasing confirmation to the Cymbian men that there were beauties on the other side of the Impossible Mountains.
Another good reason to go there! Shuul could easily see the young human's as yet unrequited passion for this 'Espira', and the description of this exotic princess, if true, piqued his interest no end.
The Cymbian's questions provoked Ji to go on and on, until eventually, Shuul interrupted Ji's love-smitten commentary, which was growing a little tiresome. “Well the wonders of women, eh? How I would like to meet this Espira . . . she certainly sounds like a beauty!”
The comment was actually truthful, but right now he was eager to find out more about Luminor.
Sharing confidences about their respective lady-loves that night had laid the groundwork for a certain camaraderie, so when Ji approached the Cymbians for another evening chat, he did so with a friendly smile and a small tin of Prian ointment. The particular affliction of those standing rather than sitting was an obvious and common one among all the riders.
“Use some of this, my friends. It has magical properties – for which I see you are in sore need!” He grinned, offering the tin to one of Shuul's men, who appeared to have difficulty walking, let alone sitting.
“I will leave it in your hands . . . good luck, finding a private place to apply it. But take comfort – you are not the only ones!”
Smothering his grin, he advised, “I can assure you, the Prian will help. And your arses will harden . . . over time!” Ji was careful not to make too much of it. He noted t
he slightly resentful way the man had taken the tin of balm. Ji knew that indignation often led to aggression and best avoided when one had bigger battles to wage. To hurt the pride of a Cymbian was an unknown quantity which he preferred not to test this early in a friendship.
When the afflicted Cymbians moved a short distance away among the trees, they came upon a number of other rookies already out there, tunics hitched around their waists, shamelessly applying copious quantities of the herbal unguent to their backsides. There was a strange unity in it.
Shuul, having escaped any ill-effects from the long ride, remained close to Ji, using these few valuable moments to glean new knowledge. With his usual cunning, he made sure to be courteous, drawing Ji aside to excuse his less-than-polite men. In this young human warrior, with his Elite Gaian connections, the Cymbian chief saw a ready source of useful information. It certainly would not be helpful to jeopardise this boon by simple lack of manners.
“I must thank you, Ji. Forgive them – to a Cymbian, showing pain is a weakness. Most would rather die than admit to such things!” He smiled apologetically.
Ji answered with a smile, his old friend, Beris, in mind. “I would say, that is not so different from many of our hardened soldiers, stoic to the last!”
Shuul went on, drawing Ji into his confidence. “It is no secret that I do not wish to return to Morvia. Neither do my men!” He feigned reluctant admiration for the lord who gave his band reprieve from execution. “However we are grateful to have been given a second chance, and we Cymbians are not without honour. Certain things seem to work the same in your world, as ours! Your lord is fair. We must repay fairness with loyalty, no? We must earn our keep!” Shuul smiled contritely.
After an effective pause, he continued with usual cunning. “As you know, we Cymbians are here now, because we are familiar with all things Morvian. We know more of the Zorgs and their movements than the locals, and of course, we are excellent and clever fighters, but I am very curious about your other allies, these Gaians, their traditions . . . and their magic. What compels you humans to follow them into such peril, to rescue a few Morvians? And, why do Morvians risk going back to face those giants? This Lord Luminor must be very powerful, to have earned such loyalty and to think the Zorgs can be defeated. How exactly, may I ask . . . is he going to do this?”
With the naivety of youth, and proud of his uncle's amazing powers, Ji stated simply, as if it was the answer to everything, “Well, he is Lord of Fire, and worthy of his title. He can control the Fires – all of them – if he can keep his strength!”
So, not always strong – interesting . . . But, what is this, of many fires? The one fire that I know of is indeed a powerful weapon! Shuul decided it best to pursue the first snippet now, and try to understand the rest later.
“Then, would it be true to say . . . he is not invincible?” probed Shuul.
“That is true. Actually, he has nearly died – a few times! And, he has recently suffered from the effects of an old injury. Thankfully, he seems to have recovered.”
Shuul remained hopeful. He would keep watch for any advantage. For the time being, he had to play along.
Careful not to appear too interested in Luminor's weakness, singular or otherwise, he changed the subject. “Many thanks, my friend! The balm you gave to my men – that was kind of you. Does it really work?” If he preserved this new friendship, it could provide all the information he needed in time.
As Ji warmed to this charismatic Cymbian, he thought to help him understand something of the cause, which Shuul and his men had now joined. After all, its protection was to embrace new races. Ji's fierce loyalty to his uncle, the Alliance and this mission shone through every piece of information he shared. Comfortable in his tutorial, Ji continued. “Prian is a magical herb. The ointment will be used first, because it is easier. The fresh leaf, originally used by the Gaians, or the dry powder which we have with us, is traditionally chewed with saliva, to a paste. It is good for almost every injury and will also stave off frost-bite on our return journey, if we have some left!”
A very useful commodity, this Prian!
Shuul stored all these newly-discovered facts away for future use.
“Thank you, again, my young friend!” he said, slapping Ji on the back. He had a certain admiration for such fervour.
“Now, I must leave your good company. I have been summoned to a meeting with your illustrious Lord Luminor. Is he by any chance . . . a mind-reader, to add to his many talents?” He laughed, good-naturedly.
Ji answered honestly. “All I know is that he can predict intention or outcome. I don't understand it. I try not to spend too much time around him with the thoughts that I have in my head!” He threw Shuul a meaningful look.
“Ah, yes. One should always be careful, especially when dealing with women – or their fathers,” Shuul winked and grinned rakishly, “Or their husbands!” Pity, I got no real answer there. I will just have to be very careful! He became smug. “Anyway, unbelievable as it might seem, I have some knowledge which he does not!”
Shuul hurried to the meeting with Luminor, aware that what he and his men knew about Morvia and the grisly habits of its invaders could ensure their survival in more ways than one. And everything new he learned added to that insurance.
This was their ticket to a new world. Knowledge was a valuable commodity indeed. It could be played like a game of cards. And he was good at many such games. He would hold those he had been dealt close to his chest, giving up one card at a time, hopefully picking up aces along the way. Of course, one never revealed the entire hand at once. Not if one could avoid it.
Unfortunately, he felt unavoidably nervous because the question remained unanswered whether Luminor could actually read thoughts.
Shuul smiled wryly as he crossed the camp, musing about a very handy use of such magic in the world he knew. Is this Gaian as ruthless as any other overlord? I wonder with his talents. . . could he – would he – cheat at cards?Does he intend to hold true on his promise of freedom?
In this case, it would be helpful if Lord Luminor was as highly principled as Ji had so loyally described, but somehow he doubted it.
The horrors of war make ruthless men of us all!
Chapter 22 : VISION
“There is definitely something crafty about him,” stated Xandor. “Even I can see it. It would be wise to keep him and his men under close watch. We cannot give him even an inch!”
Sumar stood and paced a few steps. “His knowledge of Zorg movements, and grain stores where we can resupply, is valuable. I think we all know he is not to be trusted . . . he is clever and has survived thus far by his wits. Of course, he is biding his time with us, but at the moment, I do not believe he is dangerous. Not while he fears Gaian powers!” He shared a brief glance with their taciturn leader.
They were all used to Luminor's speculative silence during these consultations while the others offered their opinions.
Jimbu's insights were close to the mark. “I see him playing games – he is a gambler!” Everyone knew to beware of a hustler.
Commander Stolis was cynical, after many gruelling campaigns, a successful tactician and a realist. “As you all know, I am loyal to the Alliance. Hard as I have become, I still understand compassion – the hope that these people will turn over a new leaf. And for now, perhaps they can provide us with useful information. But they might be more trouble than they are worth! Can we really afford to take the chance, on the brink of such a perilous quest? I seriously doubt such a zabuk as Shuul will ever change his spots. To be honest, I would have executed them – simple as that!” His expression was grim, but softened a little as he inclined his head, deferring to their leader. “My lord, I realise you see things we do not – I beg enlightenment!”
Luminor was quiet a moment more. He felt ready to give assurance, now that he knew the meaning of his recent dreams.
He nodded to Stolis and smiled. “You worry too much about the Cymbians . . .”
&nbs
p; His eyes glowed with mysterious inner light. At that point, Stolis had to concede that, when it came to Gaian mysticism, things would likely be as clear as mud until they happened. He had learned long ago to curb his cynicism and be at peace with that.
Luminor got to his feet. “And, you need not be concerned about my health, either. There is still time. Very soon – as much as I have always wished otherwise – I shall wield the Fire of Destruction once more! To that end, we depart at dawn. I believe help from the Ancient Realm is on the way!” His beaming smile, the energy that radiated from his body, renewed faith that Luminor was indeed back to full health. And as if that was not enough, he closed with a sweeping promise.
“I have known all my life that the time has come for change. Unfortunately, I have found it necessary to repeat the actions of my father, using the Destroyer, but sparingly. That Fire, given rein, goes no less quietly than the other four. But soon, just as I have always dreamed . . . it will be the age of the First Fire, which has only yet flickered, but has the potential to consume three others! And that Fire, my brothers, is Love!”
They all had much to think on, as they tried to find sleep that night.
*
Sunrise in the heart of the mountains found the Morvians and their Gaian companions still sheltering in the warm sanctuary of the Cave of Springs.
Their number had swelled by three, after one of the warriors had found the half-frozen Morvians, wandering along a track while he was out hunting. That evening, they had celebrated and shared the luxury of roasted meat and a warm place to rest. Future rations would be measured, but Morvian spirits were high and the two Gaians were proud to be their protectors.
This morning, however, things were far less inspired.
Lelu was very distraught and Finn tried his best to console her.
One of the Gaian warriors was awkwardly rocking the baby, which had been completely upset by Lelu's wailing. A belly full of yak-beast milk had not solved the problem for longer than a few minutes. Neither had his tuneless attempt at humming a lullaby. With a long-suffering expression, he scanned the cave for assistance, finding none. Apparently unaffected by the noise, the exhausted trio of new friends still lay fast asleep. They had done a lot of sleeping these past days!