by Garry Ocean
But today, for no reason at all, he remembered his grandmother.
… He broke his bones when he fell of the cliff. He was brought in by his friends, with whom they were working on the tactics to defend the quarry from a possible attack. He was holding himself all the way while they carried him, not moaning, just clenching his teeth. But at home, when everyone left, he burst into tears.
His grandmother was sitting next to him, patting him on his head with her dry, wrinkly hand. He thought she’d scold him for the unfitting behavior or would call him some insulting girly name, like a sissy. Or worse yet, would tell about his disgrace to his father and the latter would send him to the real quarry to carve rocks and to become more manly. Instead of all this, his grandmother was stroking his hair, and the pain gradually subsided.
That night, she was talking to him for a long time, whispering and hardly moving her lips. She told him what a great warrior he would become and that all the men in their clan would recognize his strength and would respect him for his experience. He would have to overcome a great test in his life, but he would do it with honor, just like any great warrior of the Terr clan. She told him a lot more, but he could not remember everything because he finally fell asleep.
His grandmother was a sibyl. Gunn-Terr found out about that much later. The Terr clan from time to time produced girls with the inborn Gift. Rumor had it that according to an old tradition, the best warriors were allowed to take wives from the Craftsmen Enclave. People also said that the Great Nora the Clairvoyant herself was not a pureblood Alvar. Many people still believe she was born in the Enclave. She lived three hundred years ago, but, however strange it may seem, her fate was closely intertwined with Gunn-Terr’s.
For as long as they could remember, Alvars were always warriors. They did not engage in politics and they never worked. Only war was their favorite occupation and, at the same time, an honorable duty. Their clan was a lot older than any oldest clan of any of the City Guardians. The legends claimed that Alvars came to these lands long before the Great City was founded. They founded quarries in the White Rocks, and their duty was to protect the rock miners. At first, the Alvars were in perpetual war with the nomadic tribes of steppe dwellers, and they were able to push them to the far borders of the Great Steppe. Most likely, even though it was never mentioned in the ancient official sources, but the Great City itself was founded with the Alvars’ help. And later, when the city residents decided to appropriate the quarries and mines that had always belonged to the Alvars, the Hundred-Year War started. As everyone knows, it was ended by the great strategist and politician Archie the Wise.
The Alvars had never served anyone. The only exception was the Hild clan, which Cleo belonged to, and they served only the female part of it. According to the legend, Gunn-Terr’s great-great-grandmother named Berta was accompanying her husband in a military campaign to the White Rocks. That happened at the very beginning of the Archie the Wise’ era. The object of contention was one of the richest mines located at the hills of the central White Rocks. For many years, it was changing hands from one side to the other. And this time the City decided to take it once and for all, at any cost. The battles for it were violent and bloody. Despite the ten-fold advantage in manpower, the warriors of the Great City were not able to overcome the Alvars who fought to death.
Berta’s husband, the commander of the siege, decided to employ a military trick. To be truthful, no one would call it “military” as this was just a low cunning trick. One night, he sent two hundred of his warriors through the mountain pass. Moving carefully without making noise, they went around the mine in the west and, after several nights of walking, reached a small Alvar village. Only women and children stayed there, as all men were defending the mine.
Even though the attack was sudden, the village residents resisted, vigorously defending their home. The two hundred heavily armed warriors managed to take only thirty people as prisoners. They were mostly pregnant women and infants and toddlers. Using the same measures of precaution – moving only at night – the squad came back to the camp several days later with the captured hostages.
The chief’s plan was that the Alvars, in an attempt to save their wives and children, would leave the mine. But the latter refused, despite the fact that one of the hostages was Nora, the Terr clan leader’s wife.
The chief was facing a tough choice. On one hand, to let the hostages go was equal to admitting his defeat. On the other hand, to execute pregnant women and children meant to spill the innocents’ blood and stain with it his clan’s name for many generations into the future. For a whole long month he could not make a decision. Still hoping for the Alvar’s reasonableness, the chief sent to them three messengers to find out their final decision. Some time later, only one messenger returned, bringing back two severed heads. The answer was simple and clear, and quite in the Alvars’ spirit.
Immediately after that, the chief ordered to put up thirty stakes in a wide fields’ open space so that the mine defenders could see it and ordered to gather the wood for public burning of the hostages.
Berta was already aging, and to her great disappointment, the Departed Gods had not blessed her with an ability to have children. Nonetheless she was known as a virtuous and kind-hearted woman, and the hostages’ plight did not leave her indifferent. During the entire month they were held there, Berta did everything possible to make their lives in the camp at least a little easier. Taking advantage of her position as the chief’s wife, she managed to bring them food and warm clothing. Only thanks to her efforts no infant had died. It was also during that time when she became friends with Nora, although even at present the evil people say that Nora simply put a wicked spell on Berta.
Nora was a sibyl from birth, and enjoyed great trust and respect among her tribesmen. She predicted to Berta that in a short while the latter would give birth to a girl. “And from that point on, your clan will produce only girls. Until one of them meets ‘The One Who Will Change The World,’” Nora said to Berta. No one can now know for sure if she indeed put a spell on Berta. But one way or another, when Berta found out about her husband’s decision to execute all hostages the next morning, she offered the sibyl to escape. As a true Alvar, Nora answered that she would not leave alone. “Either everyone escapes, or no one,” she said.
The history is silent about how exactly Berta managed to lead thirty women and children to freedom. However, when the next morning the hostages’ tent turned out to be empty, many a warrior sighed a sigh of relief. Think what you will, but the Great City soldiers were warriors, not executioners. Nonetheless, Berta’s deed was a military crime, treason, and according to the Martial law, she was to be put to death as a traitor. The chief either loved his wife so much, or felt guilty for his dishonorable decision to take women and children hostage, but Berta’s execution was not carried out on the same day and delayed until the final verdict by Archie the Wise. The mine siege was stopped and the troops marched back to the City.
Archie the Wise was a politician with a long-term vision indeed. For a long time before that, he had been planning to reach truce with the Alvar clans and to stop the war exhausting both sides. He understood that it was a lot more beneficial to establish trade relations with the tribes of fearless warriors. They had the minerals and ores that were so needed in the City, but they catastrophically lacked food. The mountain soil was not exactly fertile, while the fields around the Great City were producing rich yields, and the orchards bore fruit year round.
Archie the Wise decided to use the failure of the military campaign to his advantage. First of all, he declared himself the Supreme Commander-in-Chief and decreed to create a conscript army, having allocated almost half of the entire City budget for it. Then, he started negotiations with the Alvar clan chiefs with the purpose of establishing good neighborly relations. Berta’s selfless deed couldn’t be more helpful to him for this. Archie the Wise was given his nickname for a reason. He decided to use the lucky chance he’d got to
his full advantage. Not only he cancelled Berta’s execution, but he also announced her a Peace Ambassador, while the Hild clan was forever exempt from the military tax every family was to pay to the city treasury.
The year after the prophecy was fulfilled and Berta gave birth to a healthy girl. Shortly after, a thirty-strong troop of Alvar warriors arrived to the Great City gate and took the oath of loyalty to the newborn. Perhaps, it was a cunning revenge by the Terr women to their men who did not meet the demands to release hostages, or perhaps Nora herself believed that one day a Hild woman would meat “The One Who Will Change The World.” Perhaps, it was a payment for Berta’s rescue mission, or perhaps a smart political move resulting into the truce and ultimately peace between the warring adversaries. Whatever it was, since that very time thirty Alvar warriors were always serving as bodyguards of the Hild women.
When Gunn-Terr was told that the Supreme Guardian’s wife gave birth to a girl, he realized it was his turn. Drang-Terr and his warriors had served their due term and were to leave the Guardian’s wife. Gunn-Terr would take over and give the oath of loyalty to the newly born girl.
It could not be said that he was thrilled about such an honorable obligation. On the contrary, Gunn-Terr’s calling was to be a warrior. He felt most comfortable in military campaigns, and his blood was really boiling only during the close combat with the enemy. But his family was marked with the loyalty oath to the Hild women just when he was born.
Gunn-Terr was the third boy born in the family, and according to the long-standing tradition, it was he who was supposed to fulfill the pledge. When he turned seven, he was assigned to the Craftsmen as an apprentice. He spent five years away from his relatives and friends. When he was completely prepared to take the burden of the Duty, he was allowed to go back.
Perhaps, deep in his heart Gunn-Terr was hoping that, just like his brothers, he would spend his life protecting the iron mines. And if he were lucky enough, he would participate in a campaign against the steppe dwellers, where he would earn the fame of a great warrior and die in battle, with his sword in his hand. But the fate played out differently: the Supreme Guardian’s wife gave birth, little Cleo came into this world, and Gunn-Terr’s life changed radically.
Nora’s prophecy, known in many lands from the White Rocks to the most remote pastures in the steppes, was absolutely truthful. As truthful, that is, as it can be with a story that is passed on from one generation to another in the form of an verbal legend. But this legend also had a continuation known to a very limited number of people. To be more exact, there was another part of the prophecy. But to understand it, one needed to have been born an Alvar.
The cornerstone of the Alvar upbringing was the belief in the Original Unredeemed Debt, an ancient curse of their clan. To redeem the Original Debt was the coveted dream of every Alvar man, starting with a young boy and ending with a gray-haired veteran. Such a deed would outshine all heroic battles and victories all Alvars had, taken together, at all times. But in the course of time, the knowledge of the Debt itself was lost. No one knew what the Debt actually was anymore.
Rumor had it that the Craftsmen preserved some records, but Gunn-Terr did not hear anything about them even though he had lived with them for five years. The Alvars were quite a humble and closed tribe, and to discuss things among themselves, especially such a sacred thing as the Unredeemed Debt, was considered shameful. The entire life of any Alvar warrior was about if not to redeem the Great Debt, then at least to decrease it. And, as everyone knew, the best way to do it would be an honorable death in a fair fight.
The last parts of Nora’s prophesy sounded something like this, “… and the third boy born into the family will become the Chosen One. He will follow the Hild’s daughter and will be able to close the circle. That is when the Day of Redemption will come.”
Gunn-Terr annoyingly threw the sword to the side. The sword rolled, clanking, on the stone floor. The Alvar rushed to catch it, feeling a little guilty, and sheathed it. “Good no one saw me at this fleeting moment of weakness,” he thought to himself.
Three days before, he sent a message to the Craftsmen Enclave. In it, Gunn-Terr described in detail the situation in the Great City as it was getting worse with every day: The Exodus, the breakthrough beyond the Rapid Waters of unknown forest beasts, general panic on the roads. In addition to everything, the intelligence sources reported that disguised as peaceful land cultivators, armed steppe dwellers were coming to the Middle Lands, while their countless hordes were wandering along the borders, although they had no business of being there at this time of the year. At the end of his report, Gunn-Terr requested to authorize, in case of a further worsening of the situation, bringing Cleo to his tribal home in the White Rocks. Just the day before that, Gunn-Terr discussed this with the Supreme One and expressed his concerns to him. The latter gave his approval with no hesitation.
That morning Gunn-Terr received a response to his message. Gunn-Terr was a warrior. This is why the response puzzled him. More than that, it took him aback. Everything about it was strange. It was delivered not by a regular messenger, but the Magistrate personal courier. In his entire life, Gunn-Terr saw him only once before that, but remembered him very well. The courier slightly bowed to Gunn-Terr, produced the Craftsmen Seal thus emphasizing the visit’s official character, and stated that the response message was to be passed verbally, which made the Alvar even more alarmed.
The Alvar had a well-trained memory, and if needed he could have reproduced the message word for word, especially because it was composed of only several sentences.
He, Gunn-Terr, was reminded of the Original Unredeemed Debt. He was also told that while making the decision regarding Cleo of the Hild clan, he was advised to listen to his own heart. That was it, not more and not less. Gunn-Terr was someone who gave and executed orders all his life. However, in this case, he received no order, but rather advice. And the advice was to listen to his heart. Gunn-Terr was not sure he had one. As far as the Debt was concerned, there was not a single Alvar who wouldn’t remember about it…
Someone knocked on the door quietly. Even before the door opened, Gunn-Terr knew for sure, whom he was about to see.
*****
The water was muddy. Having profusely poured over the White Rocks, the Heavenly Harbinger washed out tons of debris and mud now floating in the river. It was hard to swim. Nick did not expect the river’s current to be so fast. On top of everything, thick fog was clouding above the surface of the water, making the visibility practically zero. Once, he nearly swam into a tree that had appeared in the water as if out of nowhere. Nick managed to dive under it in time, before the tree caught him with its sprawling branches. He had to swim carefully, peering through the fog’s rare gaps to see the next obstacle or threat.
Right next to him floated a hay-covered roof, most probably taken down by a muddy flood or a gust of wind from someone’s house. An abandoned dog, wet from paws to ears, was sitting on it. When the dog noticed Nick, is started to bark and howl. Nick only waved back at it. At this moment, he could do nothing for the dog. As if realizing that, the dog barked several times again and then simply curled up on the floating piece of roof.
At first, Nick struggled with the current but then decided that it wouldn’t hurt if he were carried by the current several miles down, and started to swim diagonally. That way he could save his strength and energy, and then he’d make up for the time lost later.
Finally he saw the lights ahead of him: On the other bank, people were burning fires. Closer to the bank, the fog started to clear up. Straight ahead downstream the river was making a slight turn, forming a natural lagoon. Nick decided it would be easier to get out of the river in that spot, and started to work his arms more intensively. However, when he swam up closer to the bank, he realized that he’d make a mistake. The shallow part of the river was stuffed up with trash and debris brought in by the current. But he didn’t want to swim downstream even farther to find a better place to come o
ut of the river. Besides, most probably the bank was like that along the entire river.
Nick got out of the river with great difficulty, and looked around. It was dawning. He needed to hurry up as the time was working against him. Having inhaled deeply a couple of times, Nick ran. He chose to run as if he was running a marathon. That way he could save his strength and jog for a whole day without stopping. He encountered makeshift camps several times on his way: People were sitting around burning fires. It was not clear if they were guards or volunteers from the local residents. When he saw them, Nick would just add speed and run right past them. They would shout something at his back, clanking their weapons. Once, someone even shot an arrow at him.
Shortly before the pier, Nick ran into an armed checkpoint. The woody terrain suddenly finished and Nick literally ran out into an open field. It was too late to turn back or look for a different path as his appearance was clearly noticed. He switched to walking and approached the guards on duty slowly but confidently. Nick immediately noticed that the guards were on high alert. Two of them did not even pretend to be polite and immediately aimed their crossbows at him.
“Your travel document!” barked one of the guards, stepping forward. He was leaning on a large halberd like a staff. It was obvious that he was the commander here.
“I have an urgent matter for Archie,” Nick tried to smile as friendly as possible.
“You do?” the guard pretended to think about it seriously. “And which one, exactly? The One-Eyed Archie or the One-Legged Archie?”
Three guards standing not too far away started to grin and roll with laughter.