Funia was chatting with Cail and Turi was enjoying himself with the other women thieves.
“Do you mean the God of Chaos’s invasion plans?”
“That’s right.”
“I don’t think so. What good would it do? She’d think I was a runaway madman. No, better show her our warmest side. We’ll offer her an alliance, trade without charges or taxes being incurred, cooperation in the illegal drugs trade like Burgmansia.”
Below deck, the dining room swayed with the movement of the calm sea. It was decorated and equipped with all manner of luxuries with several cabins intended for rest but also as storage for armor, swords, and clothes. The women thieves felt at home and kept the rooms clean.
“So be it,” Ságamas said and took a swig of wine from the king’s cellar.
Turi went up on deck, followed by Cail and Greyson. The other thieves had gone to their berths.
“Are you going to say something, or shall I go to bed?” Mérdmerén asked.
Elgahar shrugged and sighed. He was determined on this stubborn silence.
“Hellfire, man! My guts are burning to know what’s going through that thick head of yours, my friend.”
Ságamas was combing his white beard. “By the mermaids and the sailor’s stars, the demons’ve cut out your tongue!”
***
The Nabas sailed the seas under the flag of the King of Mandrake: two swords crossed over a shield decorated with the mythical flower of the Mandrake. They could make out Grizna in the distance, shining under the intense light of that cloudless noon. White birds—herons, maybe—flew over the harbor which was bathed by that magic golden light. The air smelt of brine.
The city stood out with its towers. Some were tall and pointed, others square, and they were mixed with pyramidal structures. Moragald’Burg might have been a chicken coop but Grizna represented opulence.
“Tell me again why Mandrake’s the most powerful empire this side of the world,” Turi said. “Because seeing all this, I find it hard to believe.”
“That’s very true, cousin. Grizna seems way superior to Mandrake. We’re barbarians in comparison.”
“Mandrake is a culture based on war,” Mérdmerén explained. “We were born making war and we’re still at it. We’re bastards to our people. We enslave the population through politics, religion, or whatever, and then if they don’t jump through the hoop, we throw them out and send them into exile. That’s why we’re the most powerful nation: we’ve got no scruples. But at what price?”
Turi’s gaze lingered on Mérdmerén. What a chameleonic individual he was. According to circumstances, he could be a perfect pirate or a king with an impressive presence. Turi adjusted his squire’s attire; those tight pants were uncomfortable.
A white galley came toward them with her hundred oars shipped as the following wind was strong enough to move her.
The captain at the prow hailed them.
“What is your errand?” With him were two soldiers in white uniforms carrying bows and arrows.
“The King of Mandrake, Mérdmerén of the Kings, Ehréledán, Lion’s Fist, defeater of the darkness, has come to visit Her Excellency Sokomonoko!” Turi replied.
There was a pause. The other ship’s captain thought for a moment.
“We’ll escort you to the harbor. Welcome to the land of the Empress Sokomonoko! Welcome to the land of culture and science!”
The travelers breathed more easily.
“Greyson, Cail, Funia, Ságamas. When we reach the harbor, go and investigate. I need to know whether evil has reached Grizna and if it has, how far it’s advanced. Ask around in the taverns and the market. Be discreet with expenses, d’you understand?”
“Yes, my king!”
“The others, come with me. Turi.”
“Yes, Mérd—my liege?”
“I want you to pay close attention to my needs and those of the empress, understood?”
“Yes, my liege.”
“Put on your best clothes, all of you. Elegance is the best visiting card.”
Rita and Mela, the leaders of their groups, began to organize the women. They would look perfect among the king’s entourage.
***
Several things impressed Mérdmerén as he set foot on the soil of Grizna. The first was the restrained, unconcerned attitude of the soldiers who led the king through the busy harbor without much protection. In Mandrake, any foreign king would be welcomed with a full army since all sorts of things might go wrong. Here, it seemed that everyday activity was far removed from any problems of violence.
The second thing which impressed him was the cleanliness of the streets, the impeccable organization of the harbor, and the height of the buildings as if they had been put up by gigantic masons.
The inhabitants wore cotton tunics and sandals with scarves or turbans on their heads.
Turi’s hand itched. In the short time he had been on dry land, he had been presented with innumerable occasions to practice his trade but Mérdmerén had warned him to refrain from behaving like a thief.
They went into the market. They passed a stall of products made of some strange kind of leather. There were also artifacts for smoking flavored tobacco. They were like jugs with a swollen base and long neck and a bowl where live coals were burnt. The smoker used a long hose with a mouthpiece to inhale the smoke; he held it in and then let it out slowly. The man seemed relaxed and the smell was pleasant.
“What is it?” Mérdmerén asked the captain who had received them.
“The Tower of Lis.” He took off his white metal helmet and smiled proudly. “A present from Empress Sokomonoko, the eternal life of our nation.”
The captain’s skin was dark, a light copper like that of the Wild People. His eyes were chestnut brown and almond-shaped which gave an exotic quality to his gaze. His lips, on the other hand, were small and his nose like an eagle’s beak. Turi was sure that this was attractive to many women.
A small stature seemed to be common among the people. Like the captain, those they met were not even five and a half feet tall, unlike the people of the Mandrake Empire.
“What’s its purpose?” Mérdmerén asked once again.
“The Tower of Lis?”
“Of course.”
“It’s a gift from—”
The king was growing impatient. “I know it’s a gift. But what’s its purpose?”
“To be honest, your majesty, nobody has ever asked me that before.”
“And you’ve never felt curious about what it’s for or what it means, this tower?”
“Well, I’m not paid to question the decisions of my superiors or the events of the past. That tower, like many others, has existed for centuries. And the empress is wise.”
Mérdmerén was left breathless. What happened to make the population so complacent about their rulers? Even so, it seemed strange that nobody should rebel; either the people were genuinely ignorant and happy or the captain was hiding something. Mérdmerén’s money was on the latter.
***
“The empress sends her greetings and her apologies,” the woman said. “She was not aware that the King of Mandrake was going to be visiting her lands, otherwise she would have sent an escort appropriate to His Majesty. She has given orders to take him to the city of Iris tomorrow where the empress will receive him.”
Mérdmerén was admiring the room he had been given in one of the square towers. It was spacious, perfect for royalty.
“So the empress already knows I’m here?”
The sovereign sat down on the floor on top of a group of enormous and very comfortable cushions with bright covers in red and turquoise.
“Of course.”
This was an elderly lady, judging by the wrinkles around her eyes. The rest of her face and neck was covered by a red kerchief. She was dressed in a turquoise gown which enhanced her curves. During their stroll through Golgodesh—the port where they had landed—the sovereign had already noticed the unusual width of the female
gowns and now, confronted with this woman he did not know, he had a burning desire to reveal her face and figure. The fact that women covered themselves in this way aroused his curiosity. Why did they do it?
“Is Iris far from here?”
“Fifty leagues or so, in the Valley of Ö.”
“So how did she find out so fast?”
“Our communications have always been very efficient.”
“Is that what the tower of Lis is used for?”
“I am not sure, your Majesty.”
“It’s all right. Thank you for your service—ah…”
“My name is Güedosh,” the lady replied with a nod of her head.
***
The dinner was worthy of kings. They were seated on the floor on red cushions. The table was low, round, and spun on a central axis. The idea was that the guests shared the food, as Güedosh explained. The windows were decorated with simple curtains that looked like red scarves set with precious stones and contrasted with the light walls typical of Golgodesh. In the hall were dark stone statues that represented the Tower of Lis and winged beings.
Thïoshi, another attendant, looked after them all evening. Mérdmerén could not take his eyes off her curves. Her dress wound around her body in a spiral and exposed a great deal of skin. The most interesting thing about her was her eyes, which were dark and almond-shaped.
“Pantos meat,” Thïoshi said with a smile. “It is a fish that lives in the Lake of Ö in the valley of the same name. If you need anything, please just ask. The empress sends her greetings and wishes you to enjoy the meal. She says her soul is with you.”
Mérdmerén and the others ate with gusto, helping themselves to a special bread in the shape of a flan which the natives called mïnn that was made from tree seeds. As the food was delicious, the conversation soon languished.
***
The Valley of Ö was surrounded by the Altes, a range of high, imposing mountains that reminded them of the Devonic Range of Simrar except these seemed less steep. The mountain range formed a natural wall for Iris, the capital of Grizna.
The city shone in all its splendor. It was early in the morning and the sky was clear. On the horizon, there loomed dark clouds that might bring rain in the evening.
They reached the valley on a novel form of transport: animals like ostriches called torok. They were the same size but with small arms instead of wings. They had claws to tear the flesh of their prey—preferably boar or dogs, even humans if they had not been tamed—and a long trunk with teeth like pins.
They had two days of fast travel. During the journey, Mérdmerén found out about the breeding of the torok and the differences between the tame race and the wild one.
“Goygosh!” he called. “What are those high narrow towers around the city?”
“They are Lis towers. The small ones used for smoking are fashioned after them.”
They were coming down the Altes toward the Valley of Ö. From that height, they could see wooden houses on the mountainsides and patches of cultivated land. The torok were pulling machines. The atmosphere was one of absolute peace.
“But what are they for?” the sovereign asked.
“That is something only the empress knows, your majesty. They are matters relating to eternal life, not to us mere mortals.”
“I can’t believe you’ve never asked.”
The attention of Mérdmerén’s company was focused on the city. Iris shone white and orderly as if it were the product of a fairy tale. An impressive castle stood out in the center. Unlike the castles of Mandrake, which were stone cubes with towers, this was a gigantic pyramid on whose tip was one of the towers Mérdmerén had asked about.
He was convinced that nobody was going to tell him the function of these constructions. He watched Goygosh. Like most of the men of this nation, he wore a cotton tunic with a brown turban covering his head. His thick beard was well-tended. Mérdmerén thought about their guide’s last words and grew curious.
“In whose eyes are you mere mortals?”
“In the eyes of Lis, of course. The bringer of life and death: Empress Sokomonoko.”
“Lis created the towers for eternal life?”
Goygosh smiled.
“That is a perfect question for the empress once she has granted you permission to speak.”
Goygosh made an unequivocal sign that the conversation was over and spurred on his torok to move forward to the head of the group.
Mérdmerén was still unsatisfied. He was sure that something terribly wonderful or destructive kept the population of Grizna subjugated and that it was something not from this world. Or perhaps the man from Mandrake was so corrupt that he was unable to conceive of veneration of that kind which had not been imposed from outside.
***
Inside the Tower of Lis and the city of Iris, Mérdmerén and his escort were able to witness the grandeur of the structure and wonder in astonishment how it could have been built. Mérdmerén paced around the antechamber where he would at last meet Empress Sokomonoko. His curious gaze took in the walls and the simple decoration. The walls were white with a slight sheen as if there were minerals within them. The stone seemed as solid as marble; it might have been from some area of Grizna. Mérdmerén was aware of a certain feeling of mystery, magic, and happiness filled with hope.
Turi was absorbed, subdued by the peace that surrounded them. He noticed that the others were feeling the same, and he thought that anyone who came into the tower would feel the same way. He glanced at Mérdmerén. The boss did not seem too happy and Turi, who knew him well, guessed it was because of that feeling of peace.
The atmosphere changed. The air froze. Mérdmerén had prepared to counterattack when he saw a figure dressed in black approaching, alone and majestic. The dark cloth gave hints of hips, long, well-toned legs, and breasts that made him drool. And at the same time, he could not help but feel deep respect for this woman with the beautiful face and gaze that was firm but kind.
Turi, equally awed, wondered whether she was a woman or a goddess. It was those dark eyes and her deep, penetrating gaze that projected the energy of the moon and the sun along with a desolate sadness. She wore a tall hat that looked like an extension of herself and a flower that covered her hair—unless it was her hair itself. She did not look like the citizens of Grizna. Was the empress herself not from Grizna?
“Empress Sokomonoko!” announced the herald, a soldier with a golden turban.
“Mérdmerén the Deserter, now Lion’s Fist,” said the empress in greeting. “Turi the Crafty, Rita, Mela, Rosana, Aurora, Hilda, Funia, Natusia, Lorena, Josefa, and Paula from the Dungeon of Thieves. You have come in good time to inform me of what is going to happen very soon. Evil has awoken, has it not?”
The women thieves were flabbergasted. They did not know how to react to the fact that the empress not only knew they were thieves and that they were not part of the House of the King, but also that the fact did not bother her. The women bowed from the waist to greet her reverently.
“Your Majesty, how do you know—um…” Mérdmerén began hesitantly. He had so many questions that he resorted to speaking the statement he had already rehearsed. “I’m the King of Mandrake and my purpose is nothing more than to establish a long-lasting relationship with Grizna. Evil, as you have well said, is advancing. It’s reached Moragald’Burg. We’ve seen it and felt it. The forces of Good need to unite.”
Sokomonoko was silent. She was watching her guests with a cat-like gaze. It seemed Mérdmerén’s words had discomfited her.
“Welcome to the Tower of Lis and the city of Iris. Come through. We can smoke the nargileh while we talk.”
The empress spoke and moved without haste. The travelers followed her to a room in the highest part of the Tower of Lis.
***
It was the dome of the tower with a roof like a spindle pointing to the sky. They had to climb an endless staircase but curiosity spurred them on. Besides, as they went up, there were more works of
art and plants.
From the heights of that room, the city of Iris spread at their feet like a bright carpet, dotted with specks: the inhabitants. The sun, in this part of the world, lit the earth differently… perhaps more golden?
Mérdmerén stared out at the landscape. His attention was drawn once again to the Lis towers. He suspected they were used for communication, like the beacons in Mandrake, except that these towers seemed to have some nobler purpose than war.
They were sitting on red cushions around a low, round table on whose center, the nargileh rested. Now that he was closer to her, Mérdmerén was able to study the woman’s face better. She had narrow lips, a small nose, pale skin, a long neck, and eyes that were dark, round, and penetrating.
“It tastes of roses and bay leaf,” their hostess explained, indicating the pipe. “Well, you have been on a long journey with a few misfortunes and you have found out things that you already suspected. Now, you are seeking allies.”
The King of Mandrake felt a strange energy. Sokomonoko was so unaffected, so far removed from the typical manners of the nobility. Then, a spark of intuition came to him: that energy which the soul of the empress distilled was sadness.
“Evil never left our world,” she went on. “It has always been there, lying in wait. We live in a world that was conquered by Evil thousands of years ago.”
Mérdmerén blew out smoke. “What?” he cried.
Turi had fallen asleep. Mérdmerén’s escort had remained behind, tended to by the empress’s servants.
“This world, the Meridian, was in the hands of Evil in its origin. The forces of darkness never left this planet. The lord of the shadows will return with the sole purpose of regaining what he considers to be his own. In a sense, we live on his property and we owe him tribute. I cannot join the fight against the being who provides us with a home.”
Mérdmerén rubbed his brow. “Wait a moment. You’re saying you’re an ally of Evil?”
Soulseeker’s Descent Page 18