by Pedro Urvi
“So I will, to my last breath,” Mayra assured her.
Izotza nodded. “Asrael, you will help her.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“I am very proud of your progress,” she said to Mayra. “Defend my people, and you will have me by your side.”
“On my honor.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I’ve come to ask you for a favor...”
“Go ahead. I will listen to your petition.”
“My son... I want to protect him... his future is going to be complicated and uncertain. Many dangers are lying in wait for him, and I fear there will be many more of them very soon. I want to protect him from enemies and treason. If he’s killed because of me... then I would die too. He’s the son of Dakon and Mayra, and his life will always be marked by that fact. Even though he’s innocent of the decisions his parents made, he’ll pay for them.”
“I understand. That is a complicated request.”
“The Matron is powerful, her ice magic unrivaled. Couldn’t you make a protective pendant?”
“I could, yes... but I think I can give you something even better, even more powerful.”
“My lady?”
Izotza closed her eyes and cast a spell. It was a long one, in a strange and unintelligible arcane language. All of a sudden, the floor beside her cracked and a pedestal of ice emerged. On it was an object.
Lasgol recognized it. It was Camu’s egg!
“This is my gift, defender of my people. My gratitude to you. Protect my people, and this creature will protect your son. It is a very special creature, a magical one, a child of the glaciers.”
“You honor me, my lady,” Mayra said. She went to the pedestal and picked up the egg.
“May it serve your son as you serve my people.”
Mayra bowed deeply, and the image began to fade.
“No!” Lasgol cried. “I want to see more! Please, show me more!”
But the image faded, until it had vanished altogether.
“Noooooo!”
Astrid put her hand on his shoulder. “There’ll be more images,” she said cheerfully.
“It’s so frustrating not to be able to see more...”
“I know. Don’t take it to heart. There’ll be more images to come.”
“They’re memories that belong to whoever owns the medallion. I understand that now.”
“I got the impression that the Lady of the Glaciers created it so that she could experience what she can’t experience for herself.”
“Yeah, that’s my impression too. Just as she created the ring to help my mother with the languages of the Frozen Continent.”
“The pendant and the ring are linked. Now you know that.”
“Yes, and so is Camu. All three come from Izotza.”
“She knows what kind of creature Camu is.”
“My mother got them for me... to protect me... to help me,” Lasgol said thoughtfully. His eyes were moist. “I didn’t know...”
“She loved you very much.”
He nodded. “That comforts me. Later she gave the egg to my father, who managed to send it to me before he died.”
“Now you know why you have Camu, and where he’s from.”
“But we still don’t know what kind of creature he is, beyond the fact that he’s a magical creature from the Frozen Continent and that he’ll protect me from my enemies...”
“Don’t worry. Now we know a lot more than we did before, and in time we’ll find out the rest.”
“I hope so...”
“We will.”
Astrid hugged him tightly, for comfort and support.
Chapter 44
With dawn came the day that was so much expected and feared, the day of the Proficiency Test. The Mother Specialist assembled them all beside the Pearl, above the Lair. With her were the four Elder Specialists, all dressed for the occasion.
“Welcome!” Sigrid greeted them, staff in hand, with a twisted smile which boded ill.
Lasgol and all his fellow pupils were very nervous, even though they were trying to hide the fact as best they could. They were risking everything, and they were deeply aware of it.
“This test is a tradition and marks the end of the Path of the Specialist. I hope every single one of you will pass it, although generally this is not the case. There are always some who fail.”
Nervous murmurs began to break out among the pupils.
The Mother Specialist made a gesture to quieten them and went on: “Those who pass the Test will graduate as Specialist Rangers with an Elite Specialization. This is an achievement and an honor to be deeply proud of.”
Lasgol longed with all his heart to succeed. When he glanced at his friends, he saw determination in their faces as well as doubt in their eyes.
“The Test will last for three days and three nights. During that time, we’ll be evaluating each of you in your Elite Specialty. The four Elder Specialists will take part in the Test, and there will also be a guest or two.”
At the sound of this, murmurs of surprise broke out again. Lasgol exchanged blank looks with his friends. This was something nobody had been expecting.
Sigrid tapped the ground with her enchanted staff. Several silver flashes issued from it, and everybody fell silent instantly.
“I wish you the best of luck. Remember everything you’ve learnt and make good use of that knowledge. There are no second chances.” She gave them a malicious smile, as if she knew that it was something which more than one of them would need, and it would not be granted.
Now the four Elder Specialists called his or her own pupils, who went to join them. The instructions they received were simple: one test each. They would all attend every test. Those who passed would graduate, those who failed would not. The problem was that the tone of voice in which they said this, including Gisli, was decidedly abrupt.
“We’ll assemble in front of the Lair,” Sigrid went on. “Go and fetch your gear.”
Astrid, Ingrid, Erika, Molak, Luca, Viggo and Lasgol were waiting for the arrival of Sigrid and the Elder Specialists. It was obvious that their spirits were low. Not even Viggo was bothering to pretend.
Seeing her friends’ faces, Ingrid did her best to inspire them. “Come on, guys! We’re going to make it!”
Molak backed her up. “We’re ready. We’re going to pass.”
“I have the feeling this is going to be as easy as falling off a log,” Viggo said, so sarcastically that they all looked at him.
“It’s not going to be easy,” Luca said, “but I’m with Molak. We’ve put in a lot of work, and we’re ready.”
“I’m excited,” said Erika. “I want to do the test straight away and see what happens. All this expectation is killing me.”
Astrid looked at Lasgol. “However hard it is, remember everything we’ve been through and how hard we’ve worked. We’ll come out on top.”
Feeling encouraged by this, Lasgol smiled. “We’re the ‘weirdos’, and we’re going to nail it.”
“For the ‘weirdos’!” Erika shouted.
“For the ‘weirdos’!” they all shouted together.
The first tests to be announced were those of Archery. Everybody assembled beside the eastern plain on a small bare hill with a view for a league all around. In front of them was a huge open space covered in snow. A forest on one side and a stream on the other bordered it. It was snowing lightly, but there was no sign of a storm, and the cold was not very intense. Lasgol suspected that Sigrid and the Elder Rangers had chosen the day and the order of the tests with great care, as well as taking the adverse weather into account.
The first to be called was Molak. He walked determinedly up to Sigrid in his Sniper gear. He was dressed completely in white, with a reversible, hooded winter cloak. On his back was slung the sniper bow and a quiver of special long-distance arrows. Beside the bow he was also carrying a small white backpack. He had no second bow with him. Those of his Elite Specialty did not carry these, but
only hand weapons: the axe and knife at his belt.
Lasgol very much wanted Molak to pass. He was a good partner and leader, a fantastic archer, and most importantly, honorable and honest: a good person who would make a magnificent Specialist. He was sorry for Viggo, but the fact was that Molak was the perfect Captain Fantastic and deserved to graduate with honors. As for Ingrid’s choice... well, that was Ingrid’s choice and nobody else’s.
The four Elder Specialists stole away unobtrusively, and Molak was left alone with Sigrid.
“The test is simple, and at the same time complicated,” she said. The brightness in her eyes hinted that he was going to have serious problems. “I’ll be your target.” She showed him a wooden shield which covered most of her body, with a bull’s-eye drawn on it.
“Yes, Mother Specialist.”
She pointed to a spot in the distance. “I’ll be at the end of the plain. What you have to do is to get as close as you can without being spotted, bring me down and escape alive. Is that clear?”
Molak nodded.
“When I reach the spot, the test will begin. Study the position, decide your strategy, and good luck. When the test is over, go back to the Lair.”
“Thank you, Mother Specialist. I’ll do that.”
“Ready, Forest Sniper?”
“Ready.”
The test began. Molak crouched down to study the terrain and the position Sigrid was taking. As he was doing so, Ivar appeared with a long bow and took up his position a hundred paces in front of Sigrid, protecting her.
Lasgol realized that the test was becoming more complicated by the moment, and he had the feeling it was going to get even worse.
“Come on, you’ll make it!” Ingrid called encouragingly.
Molak glanced at her for a moment and then set off, crouching, down the hidden side of the hill.
The others stayed watching in silence from the hilltop, intrigued and nervous, not just on Molak’s account but on their own.
By the riverside Gisli appeared, armed with a compound bow and accompanied by a bloodhound. Molak saw him from where he was hiding behind some rocks. He was blocking his way, and if he released at Gisli, Ivar would find him out and he would fail the test. He was being forced to make his way to the forest, the most complicated location for a good shot, and he would only have one of those. If he missed, Gisli and Ivar would be on top of him and there would be no second attempt. And in any case, a Sniper had to finish off his target with a single accurate shot.
They saw him walk into the forest and go on until he came to a distance which would allow him an effective shot. He was staying close to the edge of the forest as he went, not going in too deeply. He was eight hundred paces away by now, moving stealthily at a crouch. After only a few moments the falling snow covered his footprints. It was now snowing more heavily, which would hinder him. After six hundred paces, he began to move very carefully. At five hundred and seventy-five paces he stopped completely and flattened himself on to the snow.
Lasgol wondered why he had stopped, since he was still too far away. A shot from more than five hundred paces in these conditions, in the middle of a forest, was unthinkable. And then he saw why. Five hundred paces into the forest Engla was keeping watch, with her daggers at the ready. Molak could not move forward, or he would be seen.
“He’s not thinking of releasing from there, is he?” Luca said.
“He’s got no choice,” said Astrid, who was watching beside Lasgol. “They’re not going to let him get any closer.”
“Even in his dreams he wouldn’t hit the target from that position and that distance,” Isgord said.
“He’ll do it,” said Ingrid. “And you’d better shut up and get ready. You’re up next.” She sounded very annoyed.
Isgord was about to reply, but said nothing. He made a contemptuous gesture and left.
“He’ll manage it,” Lasgol said hopefully.
Viggo and Lasgol exchanged a glance. Lasgol saw in his friend’s eyes that Molak only had a remote chance, but as long as there was one, he knew that he would try it with all the skill at his command.
A long moment went by. Engla and Gisli were patrolling, following a pattern. Molak seemed to be studying that pattern, looking for the appropriate moment for his shot. They saw him pull out his winter camouflage blanket from his backpack. Then, very slowly, with the blanket on his back, he crawled to a new position, searching for the best angle. Suddenly Engla came very close to where he was – too close – but because of the heavy snow and his camouflage she failed to see him. She turned and went on with her patrol.
“Phew...” Ingrid whistled. She was on the point of having a fit.
“I’m going to faint,” said Erika.
“Relax, trust him,” said Luca, but not very convincingly.
Lasgol too was very nervous. Viggo was watching without saying a word, which was unusual for him. Lasgol was grateful for this. It was not the moment for arguments.
Molak began to prepare his bow and the arrow he would use for the shot. Each movement was long-drawn-out, to avoid being seen or heard. It seemed to take him an eternity. And then, in a lightning move, he stood up, covered himself with the blanket and stood there, still as a statue.
Ingrid was unable to control her nerves. “Engla’s going to see him!”
But she did not. Molak was playing his role amazingly well. He waited for the right moment, then in another swift movement took out his bow from under the blanket and aimed.
“He’s going to release,” said Luca.
“No, not yet,” said Ingrid. “He has to make sure of the shot, and his escape.”
Molak waited another eternity with the shot ready, aiming and waiting for the exact moment. He had to measure the shot, the snow, the movements of both Gisli and Engla. And to make things more difficult, Sigrid moved.
“Keep still!” Ingrid cried.
“That shot’s practically impossible,” Luca muttered.
“He’ll make it!” Ingrid assured him.
Lasgol knew there were too many factors to measure and calculate in order to find the right moment for the shot, and Molak’s arms would not be able to hold the tension of the loaded bow forever.
And then, suddenly, when nobody was expecting it, he released. The arrow left the bow at the exact moment Gisli and Engla were turning in their patrols and failed to see it. Molak dropped the blanket, turned and ran off.
Ivar saw him, aimed and released.
Molak’s arrow flew in an arc. Sigrid stopped in her initial position. The arrow struck her in the shield, almost dead center.
Molak, who was running like a gazelle, felt Ivar’s arrow fall ten paces short behind him. He came out of the forest and went on running.
Ingrid was beside herself with joy. “He did it!”
“That was an amazing shot,” Luca said.
“An impossible shot,” Erika corrected him.
Lasgol’s mouth was still agape. The shot had been something from another world.
Sigrid was looking at the arrow in the shield. “Test completed!” she announced
Everybody cheered, and the pupils began to feel far easier. There was hope. The test had been a phenomenally difficult one, but Molak seemed to have succeeded in it, even though they would not know for sure until Sigrid and the Elder Specialists evaluated it as a group and made their final decision.
The next to be called was Isgord.
“If he made it,” he announced, “I’m not going to put up with second place.”
He straightened up, raised his chin and went to meet Sigrid. He was dressed in his winter clothes and carrying two bows slung across his back: a short one and a compound.
“One day he’ll poison himself with his own venom,” Viggo muttered.
“I hope he misses, by all the icebergs in the Northern Sea!” Ingrid shouted furiously.
Lasgol too wanted Isgord to miss. Especially because he had a stake in it: his own life, probably.
“The tes
t is simple,” Sigrid told him. “You go into the forest by the west and come out by the east.”
Isgord arched one eyebrow. “In and out. It sounds easy.”
Sigrid smiled. “We’ll see.”
“We’ll see,” he replied cockily.
“Ready, Infallible Marksman?”
“Ready.”
He went into the forest, then immediately took his short bow and nocked an arrow. It was snowing less than it had been a moment before, but enough to be a nuisance. He began to walk, looking first straight ahead, then to the right and finally to the left. Suddenly, to his right, from behind a tree, there appeared a round shield. Isgord, almost instinctively, aimed at dazzling speed and released. The arrow hit the bull’s-eye. He nocked another one quickly, and to his left another shield appeared. He aimed and released without stopping: another hit. He went on walking while he nocked another arrow. Behind a tree on his left there appeared a nocked bow. He aimed in the blink of an eye and released. The arrow hit the bow, deflecting the shot, and the enemy arrow flew high. Another bow appeared to the right. Isgord, without flinching, repeated the shot and once again hit the target.
Viggo was shaking his head. “You have to admit that he may be a cretin, but he’s also very good.”
Luca nodded. “It’s not at all easy to hit a bow while you’re walking.”
“Even less so at that speed,” said Erika.
“He’s despicable,” said Ingrid.
“Despicable and dangerous,” Viggo added.
Isgord went on. Suddenly, in front of him, Engla appeared wielding two daggers. Without thinking twice, he aimed at her chest and released. The arrow was about to bury itself in her, but she crossed her daggers at dazzling speed and deflected it. Isgord was already nocking another. Engla gave a leap and vanished behind a clump of snow-covered bushes. Isgord aimed at the bush, but then something moved on his right. He spun like a cyclone and saw Gisli with shield and spear at the ready. He aimed at his head and released before Gisli could attack him. The shield stopped the arrow, but the defensive move caused Gisli’s spear to veer off course to the right. Isgord hurled his body to one side and nocked again, while Gisli took cover behind a tree.