Viktor

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Viktor Page 23

by Francesco Leo


  “Do you think I behave like that to be the centre of attention?” she snapped.

  He didn’t answer and turned his head to the other side.

  Selene stared at him, then, in a rage, returned to Devanorth’s side.

  “Weren’t you tired?” he asked.

  “Not anymore.”

  “Did something happen?”

  “No ... no, don’t worry. Let’s go on.”

  Though Devanorth sensed something had gone wrong, he didn’t ask any more questions.

  “What are those?” she asked, pointing her forefinger to two canes resting at the vendor’s feet.

  “Oh ... they’re just walking canes. Good luck charms, I think. They were given to me some time ago and since then I always take them with me. Do you like them?”

  “They look easy to handle.”

  “It depends on what you want to do with them,” the man replied.

  Selene looked at them: they had a smooth surface and they were of a very light wood that she didn’t recognize. Almost as long as two of Devanorth’s arms, they were motionless as the caravan proceeded on the tortuous trail.

  Time passed in the silence that guarded the surrounding plains, then there was the breaking of glass on the ground, and a strong light struck the youngsters’ eyes.

  The horses stirred.

  “What the hell ...!” Viktor shouted, searching for Siride on all fours.

  Then a crash. And another one.

  The first invested the caravan with a dark, dense cloud it was impossible to see through; the latter blew up one of the rear wheels of the wagon.

  Part of the caravan gave way and the wood beneath Viktor with it.

  The young man managed to keep to the side of the wagon with one hand, although it was difficult to maintain control in the absence of sight.

  The more he grasped the wagon, the less his arms seemed to answer him.

  “Smoke! Don’t breathe!” Devanorth cried from somewhere.

  Viktor held his breath and appealed to all his energy to put his other hand on the wagon and pull himself up, but someone was still shouting. It was Selene.

  Two more explosions echoed.

  “Jump! Jump! “Devanorth ordered loudly.

  “Selene! Selene, can you hear me?” the chosen one shouted.

  The only answer was a final explosion that split the cart in two.

  The horses fell onto the side plains, and the two sides of the cart collapsed.

  The heat of the flames enveloped Viktor.

  Just before the back of the cart crashed to the ground, the young man let go, unable to hold his breath any longer.

  All he remembered before losing his senses was the echo of his voice calling the name of Selene in vain.

  THE TRAP

  S elene’s thin hands were groping in the dark.

  Small holes in the stone ceiling let faint beams of light filter through.

  The walls were cold and irregular.

  Selene saw a man in front of her on the other side of the metal bars. She didn’t know who he was, but she had the idea that they had been attacked by some local bandit. Whether it was against Viktor or someone else, she didn’t know.

  She was on a pile of straw stacked in a corner of the cold, dark cell.

  She rubbed her hands and bowed her head to look at herself: she was only wearing a shabby rag that covered her breasts and private parts, and a piece of cloth fell on her right knee.

  She cursed in despair, then she stopped and stared at the lines of light that cut through the gloom.

  “Simple bandits would have left us on the ground near the caravan after stripping us of all our belongings. The fact that they captured us doesn’t make sense…what could they want from us.”

  She hoped that Viktor and Devanorth were well.

  She had to find a way to escape.

  Suddenly she heard a growing noise of footsteps beyond the large iron grate.

  The rattled sound of a rusty latch and the snap of a ring made her jump. The door of the room had been opened.

  Two men, dressed in dirty, worn-out skins with scuffed bandanas, were in front of the prison.

  When they approached, one of the two opened the entrance to the cell.

  The other, meanwhile, had a wooden tray with half of a focaccia and cold vegetable soup on it. “Eat.”

  Selene backed away, then looked at the kidnapper straight in the eye; he did the same.

  “You will eat when you are on your last legs. The others have tried to desist too.”

  “Others?”

  “Yeah. They’re alive, don’t worry. Soon you’ll get out of here.”

  “Why kidnap us if your purpose was to rob us and send us away?”

  The bandit who until then had kept silent laughed, and his companion answered:

  “Don’t misunderstand. You won’t be free, you will leave this place as soon as the buyers interested in you arrive. “

  Selene remained stunned and for a moment, the words choked her in throat. She glanced at the tray, then saw the two move away. The sound of the door being closed and footsteps echoed outside.

  “I cannot stay here, but the fact that Viktor and Devanorth are well is good news ... I just hope they don’t do anything foolish. Although it will be better to act as soon as possible. I cannot end up like a toy in the hands of someone who doesn’t have anyone to brighten up his days.”

  She didn’t want to eat the soup but in the end hunger made her give in.

  Right then an idea flashed through her mind. “But yes, I could pretend to be crazy! Who’d want an incapable servant?” She looked around and then tried to scratch the dirt off. “But I think the plan is too slow and risky … in the meantime they could have already sold Viktor and Devanorth. However, I could always snatch the keys from my kidnapper somehow. Maybe when they bring me the next meal ...,” she brooded carefully.

  She had to scrutinize the movements and attitudes of the assailants, to create the right circumstances to get the better of them.

  The second time they brought her some water with a focaccia and some cheese.

  A day must have gone by and that, she thought, would be her food ration for lunch.

  Determining the flow of time by orienting herself with the intensity of light that came through the openings in the walls was not so difficult. After a couple of days it became as simple as looking at a pendulum.

  Just over three days had passed when Selene decided to act. She had memorized all the movements of the people who brought her food and drink. Even if she overpowered the two that by now she had learned to know, surely an escape would be unlikely, especially if she had to find Viktor and Devanorth.

  “I don’t even know where they brought them ...”

  As soon as the umpteenth vegetable soup was within the girl’s reach, she quickly put her hand to the bowl and threw it in the face of one of the two.

  The man swore and the second, from behind, turned. He couldn’t grasp Selene, who slipped sideways past the iron bars.

  The girl opened the door and ran as fast as she could screaming the names of Viktor and Devanorth.

  She didn’t care about the assailants who would have been alerted by her screams, because she knew she had no choice but to shout in the hope that someone heard her.

  Dark, narrow spooky corridors dug in the rocks tried to crush her and, for a moment, she believed she was under the effect of an illusory enchantment.

  “Can’t run?” a voice behind her mocked as she fell to the ground in a hallucinatory state.

  The assailant reached the girl’s body and bent over.

  Selene was dripping with sweat, trembling and her pupils were much bigger than usual.

  She would never have thought that a magician capable of using such spells had let himself be captured by that life.

  She heard a roar way down the hall; immediately afterwards some men joined around Selene.

  “Well, what shall we do with you?” one of them asked.


  “This time, bring her back to the cell. Everyone deserves a second chance,” the magician answered.

  The sorcerer’s expression, initially bossy and domineering, changed when a metal tip pierced his neck.

  The sound of torn flesh echoed around the present and all of them near Selene backed away.

  A trickle of blood ran down the end of the dead man’s lips and his eyes turned white.

  The tip of the spear glinted in the darkness and drew back into obscurity with a disquieting metallic sound.

  At that moment, Selene closed her eyes and Devanorth’s silhouette appeared among the remaining people, his two canes now firm in both hands.

  His icy eyes were different from how they were during the trip.

  Devanorth stopped advancing to the centre of the room and reviewed everyone there.

  They stared at him, intimidated.

  They waited a few seconds, then exchanged glances and threw themselves against the newcomer.

  Devanorth avoided a small group of enemies dodging sideways, as he struck some of them by twirling the two canes with great speed and skill.

  His gaze remained motionless as he stopped a knife behind him.

  He whirled around, striking the unfortunate fellow in his breastbone with his elbow.

  Two wizards reached Devanorth from one of the corridors and immediately began to murmur words with an unknown meaning.

  Before they had finished, the two canes were thrown with extreme precision and darted against the target, who threw a ball of fire just before being hit.

  When the wooden weapons crashed into the flames, they exploded into a strong crimson glow.

  One of the two wizards was lying on the ground; a pool of blood flowing under his smashed skull. The other sorcerer was stiffened by fear; he started to turn around, but he saw no one. He advanced cautiously toward Selene’s body, then he heard the breath of a man behind him.

  “I wonder what led wizards to join this scum,” Devanorth said in disgust.

  The canes were still around his neck, ready to break him in two at the first misstep. “Tell me where the other boy you kidnapped is.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about ...”

  Devanorth tightened his grip, preventing him from breathing.

  “Leave me and I will ... lead you to him ...”

  He stood still for a few seconds, then let him go with caution.

  As soon as the magician was far enough away, he began to run along the opposite corridor.

  When his steps became weak and his shape disappeared into the darkness, Devanorth quickly swirled the sticks and merged them into one form.

  A long spear appeared between his fingers.

  A broken moan and the dry noise of a felled body echoed in the dark tunnels.

  Devanorth disengaged his weapon again, sheathed the two canes in his belt and took Selene in his arms.

  The girl’s eyes were half-open, but her pulse was as irregular as her breathing. “Walking sticks, eh?” she smiled.

  He returned the smile, encouraging her not to speak and she didn’t object.

  Following the corridor, they stumbled into the corpse of one of the assailants.

  He placed Selene against the wall and began to examine the man’s body. Under his robes was a yellowish coat with pockets overflowing with money.

  “That explains the involvement of magicians... people with knowledge of the noble art of magic would never participate in the sale of slaves. Apparently it is true: the world is falling apart and money corrupts even the most honest minds.”

  He closed the eyes of the corpse, picked up the girl and went back in search of Viktor.

  They walked for a long time.

  Before finally finding his cell.

  The young man was huddled next to the wall with his eyes turned down. He raised them slowly and frowned when he saw Devanorth with Selene in his arms, then smiled with joy.

  “How did you do it...”

  “I’ll explain everything later, now help me find the exit,” Devanorth cut short.

  “What happened to Selene?”

  “Victim of an illusory enchantment.”

  “But you...”

  “Be quiet!” Devanorth admonished, hearing a group of people running.

  “There must be at least six of them, from the sound of their footsteps. They must have found their companions’ bodies and are running away; if we follow them we’ll find the exit.”

  The three were guided by the men’s trails for a long time, until they could see the light.

  When they emerged outside, Viktor and Selene put their hands to their eyes and Devanorth squeezed them hard, waiting for them to get used to the glow of the day. He grimaced, annoyed.

  When they looked around, they understood where they had been imprisoned by the slave traders for all that time.

  A cluster of large grey rocks thickened behind them like the clouds above the plains.

  “That’s where they hid ...” Devanorth realized.

  “Do you want to explain to me what happened?”

  “We were kidnapped by slave traders. They attacked us by throwing ampoules containing an alchemical substance that can have different effects against us; they are weapons that aren’t used very much but they work.”

  “And how do you know all these things?”

  “I learned a lot from my wanderings ...”

  “Don’t lie to us again, Devanorth! Tell me who you are or ...”

  Viktor fell silent when several groups of kidnappers emerged from the rocks surrounding them.

  “You’ll have to postpone your threats to later ...” Devanorth said, glancing at the men and, at the same time, putting Selene on the ground.

  “And you will give us the explanations that you owe us.”

  “I recovered this with my canes, I hope you know how to use it better than I think,” Devanorth said, pulling the cloak of his robe aside to reveal Siride.

  Viktor gripped it forcefully.

  The men who had surrounded them descended from the rocks and threw themselves at the three travellers.

  “Viktor, protect Selene!” Devanorth shouted, pulling out his two canes. “I have to stop them before they reach us,” he thought, starting to swing them in the air.

  He waited until many of them lashed out at him and, as soon as the targets were in front of him, he fused the two canes again.

  The spear flared in a light of different colours and Devanorth began to show off a quick and long combination of lunges in front of him.

  Invisible blades were born from the shifts of air and went to hit the enemies.

  The brigands fell to the ground, and the atrocities of their intentions were shattered along with their lives.

  Viktor stared at the simplicity with which Devanorth had killed.

  “Don’t stare at me like that! Think of Selene!” he shouted.

  The boy winced and saw two men overcome the blades unharmed and reach them with their arms unsheathed.

  They ran towards the young man with rough swords in their hands, while a third remained behind, stopping awkwardly to aim a dart.

  Viktor ran to meet the two men, slipped under the legs of one of the two and drove Siride into his calf.

  Splashes of blood wet his face. He got up and stuck his sword in the man’s back before the second enemy hit him.

  He parried the cut and pushed against the adventurer’s sword.

  When he was about to give up, he glanced at the archer and saw him aim; he stopped pressing his opponent, who stepped forward and was hit by the arrow.

  Viktor recovered his position and lunged for the dismayed archer who fled behind the rocks. “Selene!” he thought vehemently, before running towards her.

  Devanorth had wiped out most of the resistance, but there remained a group of enemies too close to be hit with the same strategy; after rapid lance blows, he decided to bring his weapon back to its original form.

  The weapons s
wirled around the enemies, who fell to the ground. Things became even simpler when Viktor reached his companion to back him up.

  A couple of times, the chosen one was lucky enough to avoid lunges, but still got some heavy blows.

  When finally the last enemy was eliminated, Devanorth put a hand on his partner’s shoulder.

  “Not bad for a kid.”

  “Not bad for a street vendor,” he replied breathlessly.

  “You will both get my explanations when we are in Placym ... until then, we will avoid talking and save our strength,” Devanorth said again, pointing to the cuts Viktor had on his leg.

  “They are superficial,” reassured the chosen one.

  The comrade bent over Selene, put down his canes and took her in his arms.

  “Are you going to take her that way for the rest of the trip?” asked Viktor annoyed.

  “In a short time she will be able to stand on her own legs; besides we are not far from the village. Beyond those rocks, we should be able to get back to the main road. “

  The three continued straight ahead of them, going around the corpses.

  “Those canes... turn into a spear. What a special weapon! Does it have a name? I like it,” the chosen one appreciated.

  “They are Eren and Delir, they are sisters. When I fuse them together, they become Erendil, the breeze of death. Erendil can control the air,” Devanorth explained.

  “Fantastic,” the other answered in a low tone, his face aghast.

  “Even your weapon was born to contain an element ... who knows, one day we might be able to tie one to your sword”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, but you need to know how to use the element you’re going to tie it up with. Your spirit must be in perfect harmony with what you choose.”

  “Looks like it’s too soon for me ...”

  “It is.”

  A sigh of relief greeted the sight of the newfound way toward Placym.

 

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