“But surely,” said Viven, “there must be a reason.”
“It’s all because of the Stocker you two met,” said Aunt Gina. “Stockers are evil omens.”
“Whatever,” said Manu irritably. “I want to get out of this awful place.” Scratching his head, he took back to gazing at the woman who was sleeping, breathing slowly and deeply.
“Mum,” said Manu, “that woman’s been sleeping since yesterday.”
“So?” said Aunt Gina. “What’s the problem with you? We don’t want her awake; she’s a convict, and we don’t know for what crime she’s here.”
“We are here for no crime,” said Manu. “And besides, are they going to give us any food or water? I’m heck hungry and thirsty.”
By what it looked like, they probably weren’t. Hours upon gloomy hours of starving hunger and thirst sapped them of energy, and even conversation became a task. Viven would pass into sleep many a time, but sleep with an empty stomach was more disturbing than refreshing, and the ache in his head never sought to cease.
Once, out of pure excessive frustration, Manu got up and banged furiously at the door of the cell.
“Stop it, Manu,” Aunt Gina told him. “It’s useless—No!” she cried when Manu stopped all of a sudden as his body became very rigid and he fell. It was an attack of Rigimemia.
Viven and Aunt Gina rushed to his aid.
“Oh no! Oh no! Be calm, Manu, be calm,” Aunt Gina said while she herself shook with panic. “O moon god, help him! O moon, he is your child! O moon, help him! O moon, may you always reign . . .”
It was a long time before Manu’s contracted muscles returned to a relaxed state. Aunt Gina kept on praying for almost half an hour after the attack ceased. Rigimemia was caused due to overexertion, and it was the first time Viven had seen someone have an attack. Besides prayer, few herbs could do anything to offer relief from it.
Food came only at night. A panel at the bottom of the door opened, and some loaves of bread, along with water, was passed inside.
The bread was stale, and the water tasted of mud. But they were so hungry, they swallowed it all in no time. They had no option.
Ponder how much he did, Viven failed to see the point behind them being made prisoners. They were clean of wrong doings, paid the taxes, and were what one would call good citizens. What’s more, the soldiers themselves were guilty of taking them from home by force and not making known the charges against them. Viven prayed things would be solved soon and hoped they could get out of the pit they had fallen into.
***
The thin old woman, their sleeping cellmate, never woke up. Her sleep was to last forever. It was Manu who saw she had ceased breathing, and pointed it out to Aunt Gina and Viven, who realised that the woman was dead.
What followed was an endless session of banging at the door. Fortunately, it didn’t go futile as someone got annoyed by the noise and, opening the panel, warned them to stop or he would have them beaten up.
“But it’s not that,” said Aunt Gina, her whole form shivering in anxiety. “A woman has died here!”
“What rubbish!” said the man on the other side. “You’re lying, aren’t you?”
“There really is a dead woman here!”Viven yelled. He was angry. He couldn’t understand at all why the man thought they were lying.
“All right,” said the man, “I’m opening the door, but try to be smart and you won’t see the next hour.”
The man then was heard calling for others. There was a sound of a key being inserted into a lock, and then, with a creak, the door swung open.
“There!” said Viven, pointing at the corpse of the old woman as three jailors poured in. They took her out in a matter of minutes and locked the door behind them.
“It’s horrible!” said Aunt Gina, clutching her head. “It’s simply horrible! When are we going to get out of here?”
“I was telling you from the beginning,” said a shaken Manu. “But you won’t listen—you never listen.”
The death of the woman spilled terror into their hearts. What if they were never released and had to suffer a fate similar to hers? As the days passed in the prison, days of unbearable hunger, with nights of only little relief compared to the former, their fear and dread heightened. The jailor, who supplied them with food every night, rarely talked to them, and his mouth opened solely to scold. Getting any information out of him regarding their imprisonment and when they were to be set free, if it was to happen, was impossible.
Then one night, something happened.
It was stormy outside, thunder clapping to stun the years now and then. They had only had their meek prison food and were preparing to sleep. Viven despised sleeping on the rough floor of the cell, and he knew when he woke up his muscles would be sore. All the same, any escape from the prison was welcome, even the world of dreams.
A sound like the lashing of a whip occurred, startling all of them.
“What was that?” said Manu. Then it came again.
Crack.
Viven got to his feet, alert. It wasn’t the thunder, for sure. The sound had occurred inside the cell. He didn’t even think it had anything to do with the soldiers outside. Again.
Crack.
“What’s this noise?” said Aunt.
What happened next awed and spooked all three of them. A white light appeared in mid-air in the middle of the cell. The light formed into a ball that hovered, illuminating the cell brightly.
“Fear not,” the coarse voice of a woman said. “I mean no harm to you, but rather the opposite. I am the spirit of Wiams Sezia and seek nothing but help from you.”
A spirit? Viven thought. What was happening?
“Hey.” He dared himself to speak, his voice shaking. “Hey, if you are playing a trick . . .” He didn’t know what to say.
“I am not playing any tricks on you,” the woman’s voice said. “I am the spirit of the old woman who was in this cell and died.”
“The old woman?” said Aunt. “You- you are her ghost?”
“Yes. I am her ghost, if that is what you wish to call me.”
Viven looked around the cell. He suspected someone was playing tricks on them by creating effects with sound and light. But there was no aperture or any other source from which the light was coming. The ball was all there was.
“Why have you come back?” Aunt Gina said.
“Many reasons. I was innocent of the crime they accused me of, and that too of the worst crime there could be: of murdering my dearest of friends, the renowned scientist, Algrad Bezon!”
Algrad Bezon? Had Viven heard it right? But both Aunt Gina and Manu gasped, and he was sure they had heard the same.
“You-you are the same Sezia who killed my uncle?” Aunt Gina said.
“You are his niece?” It was the spirit’s turn to be surprised.
“And these are his grandchildren. Why did you kill my uncle?” Aunt Gina asked. She was afraid of the witch, but she also sounded angry.
For Viven, the entire thing was like getting hit with a club a second time. All he had known about the circumstances surrounding his grandfather’s death was that a certain Sezia had attacked him with a dagger and killed him. And this was the very Sezia? His grandfather’s killer?
“No,” said the spirit in remorse, “I didn’t do anything to him. It was all false. I never murdered Algrad . . . I was framed.”
“You were caught red-handed,” said Aunt Gina. “The dagger was in your hands.”
“Noooo!” the spirit bellowed. The ball dissolved into liquid light that swirled and took the appearance of the woman who had died.
Aunt Gina gasped but maintained her boldness. “Go away,” she said. “Go away in the name of the almighty gods!”
“I didn’t kill Algrad,” said the woman. “Please believe me. I am innocent. He was my friend!”
“Don't lie,” Aunt Gina said.
“I am not lying. I still remember that terrible day; Algrad came to my place, looking all whi
te and shuddering, and spilled information about the sword and the axe and, after that, let out a painful cry and-and died. I was terrified and did not know what to do. I discovered the knife sticking into his back, which I had not seen earlier because of his shawl. At the precise moment I was removing the dagger from his body, people burst into my house and saw me holding it. They had heard Algrad’s cry. I tried to explain to them, but everyone was adamant.”
“You’re lying,” said Aunt Gina.
Sezia eyed Aunt Gina sorrowfully.
“It is all right if you do not believe me,” she said. “I understand. No soul believes me anyhow. But as for going away from here and leaving you, that I cannot do—not alone. You will have to help me because I am obliged to this cell as long as the promise I made to Algrad is not fulfilled.”
“You’re lying,” Aunt Gina said again.
“Please trust me,” said Sezia. “If you help me, I could help you too. I can help you get out of here.”
“You can help us get out of here?” said Viven. Unlike Aunt Gina, he felt himself inclining toward believing Sezia. If she really was a spirit, he couldn’t see any reason why she should lie. Maybe she had really been framed?
“Yes, but not until you do me the favour of completing my unfulfilled promise to Algrad—It is what binds me to this place.”
Viven looked at Aunt Gina; she did not seem acceptant of the deal.
“No,” she said. “We aren’t criminals like you; we needn’t escape from here. They’ll release us themselves soon.”
Sezia shook her head of white light.
“They would not because they do not. Once you are in Nascat, you either escape or are here for life. They want to keep as many people as possible to show they are doing their duties well. And if you run away, they would not bother to search for you; they will pick up someone else.”
Aunt Gina flinched. This line of conversation was having an effect on her. The prospect of spending his entire life in the cell made Viven queasy. He could still taste the stale bread in his mouth.
“But surely,” said Aunt Gina, “they won’t do something like that.”
“They have done so to hundreds of people,” said Sezia. “It is least likely they will spare you; trust me, I can be of help. Alive, I, myself, could not flee, but as a spirit, I can help you to be free.”
Aunt Gina glanced at Viven and Manu, pursing her lips. Viven was sure it was their bony faces that compelled her, for the anger disappeared from her eyes and she said, “What will we have to do?”
“You will have to go to the Tropagian forest.”
Aunt Gina simply gaped, stupefied.
“You want us to go to the Tropagian forest?” Viven asked. He had become a little hopeful when Sezia had said she could help them escape. But now he thought she was just a crazy dead woman.
“Yes,” said Sezia. “It is where the sword and the axe are.”
“What sword and axe?”
“The sword Navarion and the axe Acario. Algrad had instructed me to destroy Navarion by cutting it into two using Acario.”
“Why would my grandfather ask you to do something like that?” Viven said.
“Because he had me in his confidence,” said Sezia. “He had come to know of the two artefacts during the Tropagian expedition. Navarion is an evil sword that, if it falls into the wrong hands, can make everyone slaves of its wielder. Hence it needs to be destroyed—the axe Acario being the sole object that can do so.”
Aunt Gina shook her head. “This is impossible. You can’t simply expect us to go to a place like Tropagia! That vile forest took the lives of all except my uncle during the expedition.”
“And they all died to save him—so he could destroy the sword Navarion, but he died without succeeding, handing me the task, which I failed at as well.”
Aunt Gina eyed the spirit suspiciously.
“The men died in an accident while crossing the river. My uncle had gotten to the other bank first. That’s why he survived.”
“No,” said the woman, “what you have been hearing is not true. Algrad told me he hid the real facts as he did not want people to grow more afraid of the Tropagian forest. His party had encountered demons, and in the ensuing battle, his men gave up their lives to save him.”
“Demons?” said Aunt Gina. “You are lying!”
“I am not. But demons and the dark creatures are beings of the night—they are not around during daytime. So, if you go to Tropagia and can get to the axe hill before nightfall, you should be secure from harm. By Algrad’s words, the hill is magical and bad forces cannot wander near to it.”
“So, the forest is free from dangers during the day?” Viven asked. “And we’ll be safe if we can get to the hill?” Nothing Sezia said made any sense. But Viven wanted to believe her anyway. If Sezia was spinning a delicious lie, then so be it. Even lies were better than the four walls of the cell.
“Yes,” said Sezia. “Algrad said so, although I do not know how he came to know it all.”
“Still,” Aunt Gina said, “we can’t go to Tropagia as long as we are locked up here.” She frowned doubtfully. “Which forces me to think—how will you help us when we can’t help you in the first place?”
“No,” said Sezia, dismissing her confusion. “After death, I have gained magical powers. Though I cannot go myself, I can teleport you to the Tropagian forest, as close to the axe hill as my powers allow me.”
“But what will we do once we get to the hill?” Viven asked.
“Climb to its top. There you will find a cave. In it, the axe Acario resides, which you should retrieve. Then, after spending the night there, you will have to journey to the temple of Breene on the banks of the river Brank, which is at a sight-able distance from the hill, toward the north. The sword Navarion is located inside the temple, and you must use the axe to cut it into two so that its dark powers are diminished.”
Aunt Gina looked at Viven. She appeared confused regarding what decision to make.
“What do you say?” she asked him.
It was easy to decide. Easy as choosing a bowl of Goigpaise over normal soup.
“Maybe we can give it a try,” he said. He was excited like he had never been in a long while. He hated the cell. Anywhere was better than the cell. “Besides, she says they won’t search for us if we escape from here.”
“And what after we destroy the sword?” Aunt Gina asked the spirit.
“Worry not,” she replied. “Once the sword is destroyed, my obligations to Algrad will be over and I shall become a free spirit. I could go to the forest myself and take you from there and transport you to your home.”
“And what if you don’t come?” Aunt Gina said, heavy scepticism in her voice.
“I promise I will,” said Sezia. “And you can trust in that, for unless a spirit has fulfilled all her promises, she may not pass into the other world.”
The night went in nervous anticipation of the morning. They didn’t sleep; besides, sleeping would only give them cramps.
With the breaking of the first rays of dawn, Sezia, who had turned herself invisible the previous night, reappeared and told them to assemble in a line, holding hands.
“So,” she said, “as about your food, Tropagia will provide it in abundance. You will find there quantities of fruits and berries. You should keep a lookout for darker-coloured fruits, as they may well be poisonous. Other colours you can go for. I am transporting you as close as possible to the hill.”
The three of them exchanged looks and nodded, grasping each others’ hands more tightly.
“Let’s hope for the best,” said Aunt Gina.
Viven took in a deep breath. He was shivering. They would finally get out of the cell.
“This will be adventurous,” said Manu, glowing for the first time in what Viven thought was ages.
Sezia lifted her arms and, making complicated gestures with them, muttered strange words, riddling incantations their mortal ears could not make any sense of.
Smoke gushed from her hands, dense but breathable smoke that surrounded them until it was the only thing in their vision.
When the smoke cleared, they were no longer in their cell at Nascat. No walls held them captive any longer. The wide blue sky was over their heads and trees were everywhere; freedom was theirs.
They were in the Tropagian forest.
***
Dirita
“So?”said Manu, looking about the spot. “This is the bloody forest, eh?”
A stream flowed nearby, a small one, its breadth only a few metres. The rustling water appeared clean; thirsty, Viven scooped and cupped a couple of handfuls into his mouth. It tasted much better than the water they provided at Nascat.
“It ought to be,” he said. “But where is the hill?” The trees weren’t that tall, but they were so thick in numbers everywhere that they did not permit a good view of any direction.
“I can climb a tree,” Manu began, but then he gasped. “Viven! Where’s Mum?”
“Aunt?” Viven turned around. There was no Aunt Gina. He had thought she was just near the two of them.
“Mum!” Manu cried. “Mum! Viven, I think Sezia didn’t send her with us!”
“Aunt Gina!” Viven cried. He knew there was something not okay with that Sezia. They shouldn’t have listened to her. “Aunt Gina!”
“I am here, boys!” Aunt Gina said, appearing from behind a tree.
“Mum!” Manu cried. “We thought she didn’t send you!”
“I guess she ended up transporting me away from you two,” said Aunt. “I suddenly found myself in the forest all alone. When I heard your cries, I came this way.”
“Well,” said Viven, relieved, “we are together now at least.”
“Yeah,” said Aunt. “So where’s the hill?”
“I can climb a tree and see,” Manu offered.
“Yes, do it,” said Aunt Gina. “We need to get to the hill as fast as we can.”
Manu was an expert in climbing trees, way more agile than Viven. He got on top of one while Viven and Aunt Gina waited below, watching.
“I see it,” he said, flinging his arm forward. “And good news! We’ll have that stream with us; it flows straight to the hill and then curves.”
The Sword of Tropagia Page 3