City of the Automatons

by Francesco Bertolino

  Another week passed, and Kyra’s sailor skills increased apace: among other things, she could now move nimbly in the confined spaces of the boat, even in heavy seas, and she could climb the mast to loosen and tie the sails. She was becoming an excellent swimmer, and never missed an opportunity to jump into the sea just for the pleasure of splashing in the cool water. She left the boat behind her with a few vigorous strokes, regardless of Ezer’s curses, and kept going until her lungs burned with the effort. Then she turned over on her back, splaying her arms and legs, and lay motionless on the water, lulled by the waves.

  The sea had an incredible therapeutic effect on her, driving from her mind all the shadows and doubts that had tormented her in the past. And as this new sense of peace took root inside her, her relationship with Ezer strengthened day after day. More than once, from the corner of her eye, she had caught the gruff fisherman observing her with beaming eyes, full of pride for her progress. It seemed impossible to them that they had known each other for only three weeks, and that each day spent together made them both happier than they dared to admit. The fishing was ungrateful, the fatigue great, but life was worth living.

  One rainy night, at the “Dancing Lion”, while they were enjoying a well earned rest in front of two mugs of limpaq, the door suddenly opened, and a small fat man came stumbling in. He was drenched from the tip of his plumed hat to the toes of his cloth slippers, and wore a hangdog expression.

  “Dear me!” he complained “Terrible weather for traveling! I should have listened to my wife and stayed peacefully at home...”

  Several heads turned in his direction, but the interest lasted only a few moments. The strange cut of his clothes, his plumpness and his strong accent left no doubt as to his identity: a merchant from Dekka on a business trip, for sure. It was not uncommon for them to stop in Mirna, especially on a gloomy evening like that. The stranger walked to the counter, dripping water as he went. The innkeeper followed him with a greasy look: it was time for him to increase the evening’s meager profits.

  “What can I serve you, sir?” he asked with a smirk.

  “Anything, as long as it warms my stomach” said the merchant, waving ringed fingers under his nose.

  “Right away, sir! I happen to have in stock some excellent Sendir liqueur, the ideal beverage for such an evening!”

  “I hope so, innkeeper. And while you are at it, provide something for my servants too. But don’t overdo it! I don’t want those wretches to get drunk, or they will turn into creatures more stupid than my donkeys.”

  He spoke loudly, happy to flaunt his importance in front of the humble fishermen. Kyra and Ezer heard him from their table, and exchanged an amused smile. The merchant spent the next half hour complaining noisily about the weather and business, and there was no subject on which the innkeeper didn’t agree with him, while filling his glass.

  “Damn Factory!” the merchant suddenly exclaimed, slamming his fist on the counter “As if the threat of a war wasn’t enough to dampen our trade!”

  “Factory?” said the innkeeper, pouring another drink “I think I have heard about it...”

  “I would be surprised if you had not! Doesn’t everybody know yet?”

  “Well, to tell you the truth...”

  “It is the most colossal building in the entire Kingdom, believe me innkeeper! Its chimneys are as tall as towers, its walls as thick as a fortress’, and they say a raging fire is never extinguished in its furnace!”

  “Are you serious?” said the innkeeper. Without taking his eyes off the merchant’s face, he put aside the empty bottle, and opened another.

  “Do you take me for a liar, innkeeper? I haven’t told you the best part yet...”

  “And what would that be?”

  “The Automatons, by gad!”

  “Automatons?”

  “Monsters with mechanical hearts! One of them crossed my path once, and I almost fainted! Luckily, we don’t see many of them around ... They keep them locked inside the Factory, and each of them does the work of twenty men!”

  “You are kidding me” said the innkeeper, with a chuckle.

  “Not at all!” the merchant contradicted, gesturing widely “It’s just as I’m telling you! It’s a disgrace for all craftsmen in Dekka! The ruthless competition of the Factory is reducing them to poverty, and as a result we merchants are almost out of suppliers! Only a few of them are still managing to resist, and they sell their wares for astronomical prices!”

  “I don’t understand” replied the innkeeper, who never withheld his opinion when the subject was money “Why not buy your supplies directly from the Factory? Wouldn’t it be cheaper?”

  “Of course it would! But here’s the catch... Guess who is the sole owner of the Factory, who has full rights to sell all of its products, and has thus obtained a monopoly on the market?”

  “I don’t have a clue.”

  “Dinor, damn him! Dekka’s governor, strangely enough! This way, in addition to pulling the strings of the City Watch, he also maintains control over the trade! No one has ever seen so much power in the hands of a single man, not in my city! If that good for nothing was at least able to hold off those gangs...”

  The innkeeper shook his head, sympathizing with his rich customer, and poured him more expensive liqueur. The evening’s profits were leaping upward at each exchange of words.

  “It is just like that, innkeeper!” the merchant went on “Dekka is becoming a dangerous place to live in, a nest of cutthroats and outlaws. An honest citizen like me has to constantly watch his back! It is not nearly as quiet as your Mirna, no way! Not that I would come to live here: I have a sensitive nose, you know. I do not know how you fishermen manage to...”

  He fell silent at once, and slapped his forehead.

  “Damn me, I almost forgot!”

  He leaned over the counter and grabbed the innkeeper by the collar.

  “I need information, innkeeper!”

  “O-of course, sir! I am at your disposal!”

  “I am looking for a fisherman, an old man named Ezer...”

  The innkeeper raised an eyebrow in surprise.

  “You know him?” the merchant insisted.

  “Yes, I know him” said the innkeeper “He is the man sitting in that corner, with the girl.”

  “Right! I had better get this over with before I forget why I came to this flea-ridden village!”

  He got off his stool with some difficulty. The innkeeper offered to help him, but he refused, and walked unsteadily towards Kyra and Ezer’s table. The two could sense the smell of liquor before they saw him coming.

  “Are you Ezer, the fisherman?”

  “In person” said the old man, giving him a quizzical look.

  “Excellent!” said the other.

  He reached into his fine silk jacket, rummaging in one pocket and then another until he found what he sought: an envelope with crumpled edges. He straightened it without much delicacy, and threw it on the table, almost hitting a mug.

  Ezer opened his mouth, but the merchant was faster:

  “Don’t ask me what it is, because I know nothing. I owed a debt to a friend, a merchant in Dekka called Leon, and now we are even. He knew I was going to travel to this area, so he asked me to find a fisherman named Ezer and give him this letter. And so I have done.” He stared at the old man. “Leon seemed quite worried, to tell you the truth. I do not know what strange business you two have in common, but something must be amiss.”

  “But... I don’t know anybody in Dekka! Much less this merchant Leon!” protested Ezer, confused.

  “That is not my concern! Read the letter, I am sure you will find all the answers to your questions in there. As for me, I have done my part. Now, if you will pardon me...”

  He made a crude bow, inspired by alcohol rather than by courtesy, then turned and walked back to the counter, knocking chairs and tables in his path.

  Ezer tried to follow, but Kyra dissuaded him:

  “You heard th
at, old man. He doesn’t know more than you or I.” She pointed a finger at the crumpled envelope among the mugs. “You’d better read it, as he said.”

  “Easy for you to say” Ezer mumbled “I have never learnt to read, if you really want to know. When I was young I had more important things to do than hunch over books!”

  “All right, I will do it” she sighed, grateful for the long afternoons spent studying under Dorian’s stern gaze “Can I open it?”

  “Be my guest. But I have a bad feeling, to be honest. I lied when I said I didn’t know anybody in Dekka, and you know it.”

  He wrung his hands, trying to stay calm, while Kyra took the envelope and opened it. She pulled out a couple of rough paper sheets, written in pale ink. From the many stains and uneven handwriting, she guessed that the letter must have been written in some haste.

  She began to read:

  Dear Sir,

  I go by the name of Leon, cloth merchant.

  I entrust my fears to this letter in the hope that you may be able to aid me in a matter that concerns us both.

  I will be brief, as time is not on our side. Several months ago, a young man named Ethan came to my store.

  Kyra stopped reading, but Ezer gestured for her to continue, his face pale.

  He was looking for work. I don’t know why, but I felt compelled to give him an opportunity. It was a good decision: the boy was obedient and willing. He soon became a valuable assistant and a true friend.

  But I became aware of his interest in issues that should not be discussed in public. I often had cause to caution him, but he seemed not to take my advice to heart.

  One evening, two weeks ago, he came stumbling into my house, rambling about a shocking discovery he had made.

  I told him I did not want to get involved because sticking one’s nose into certain matters can be very dangerous. He insisted though, saying that I had to see it with my own eyes.

  Alas, I lost my temper and pushed him away, refusing to listen...

  I haven’t heard from him since, and I fear something terrible has happened. But I cannot find out alone as I know I am being watched!

  I am sending this letter to you Ezer, in the hope that it is not too late, and that you will help me to save your son’s life. How, I do not know... But please make haste!

  I will wait for you here in Dekka. You won’t have trouble finding my store, it is located near the port, and quite well known.

  Come quickly I beg you, and keep hope alive!

  In faith,

  Leon

  When Kyra finished reading, Ezer looked at her in bewilderment. He fixed his anxious gaze on hers, his face marked by an expression of deep anguish.

  “No...” he murmured “How could such a thing happen? Stubborn, stubborn child!” He put his head in his hands, distraught. “I knew it would end like this! And now what? What can I do? What?”

  He stood up on trembling legs.

  “I must prepare, I must leave as soon as possible!”

  “Calm yourself!” said Kyra, forcing him to sit down again. She shot a warning look towards the fishermen sitting at nearby tables, who were paying far too much attention for her liking.

  “Calm myself?” Ezer sobbed “How can you ask me to calm down in a situation like this? My son is in grave danger, and I don’t even know why! What would my dear Anna say? I cannot lose him too, I simply cannot!”

  “We will find a solution, I promise! But we need to think. Or would you rather run blindly into danger? What good would it do your son?”

  Kyra felt a stab of pain faced with the old fisherman’s suffering. Her words sounded wise, but if she were in his shoes, she would already be out of control.

  Ezer fidgeted in his chair, restless. He let out a deep sigh, trying to regain his composure.

  “You are right girl. Haste is never a good counselor. But I cannot sit here with my hands folded, can I? Every minute lost could be fatal!”

  “I know. We must act quickly, but we cannot be reckless. Especially when the life of someone dear depends on it. That is one of the most important lessons I learnt on the battlefield, I can assure you.”

  She looked around to make sure that nobody else in the tavern had heard the disturbing news. Then she stood up and invited Ezer to do the same:

  “Come on, let us go home. We will decide our next move there.”

  They walked toward the exit. Ezer tried to appear relaxed, but he looked terrible. As they went past the counter they gave a quick nod to the innkeeper and to the merchant, who was already on the path to a heavy hangover. The cool night breeze caressed their faces as they crossed the threshold of the “Dancing Lion”, but neither of them was comforted. They walked briskly up to Ezer’s cabin without exchanging a word.

  Kyra knew it would be a long night of discussion and plan-making . But in her heart, irrespective of any other recommendations, she had already made up her mind. The important thing was to ensure that Ezer approved of her decision, and that was not going to be an easy task at all.

  ------

  The next morning, Kyra woke up before dawn.

  She got out of bed in a rush, even though there was no likelihood of her falling asleep again. Not that day. She put on her traveling clothes and soft leather boots, and then left the hut. The sun was rising over the horizon, its rays eclipsing the last of the stars’ faint glimmer. Like every other morning since she had arrived, Kyra walked to the well and rinsed her face. Shortly after, with a bag hanging from her shoulder and her trusty daggers buckled on her belt, she was ready to travel to Dekka.

  She cast her gaze over the tranquil bay and the docks, where already some fishermen were preparing their boats. Ezer came out of his cabin just then, and looked at her from the threshold. He shook his head sadly, before giving her a forced smile. Kyra smiled back. She would do her best to bring the boy home. For the sake of the old man, and to get back to him and to Mirna as soon as possible, as her heart commanded.

  As expected, she had struggled to persuade Ezer that this was the best solution for all concerned. She stood a better chance of success if traveling alone, quickly, and without having to worry about the old man’s safety. Even though Ezer had protested and tried to put his foot down, he had eventually been obliged to surrender to the logical evidence. Kyra was a strong and cunning warrior, and she was much more likely to succeed where he would have little chance.

  Only after long hours of discussion, and with a good deal of persuasion, had the old man come to terms with the idea. But he still felt like a coward for sending the girl into danger in his place – and for reasons that shouldn’t have even concerned her.

  Therefore, when Kyra turned her back to him in the light of dawn, he felt a stab of pain.

  As if now he were losing a beloved daughter, as well as his son.

  VIII - The Snakes Trainer