Power Conspiracy

by Pedro Urvi

  “They’re coming for us!” Lasgol shouted.

  “Ride!” Ingrid snapped.

  They galloped away in an attempt to escape. Lasgol knew that their chances were practically nil, that their pursuers would catch up with them in a moment. Nor was he wrong. They were gaining on them fast, and he could see the thirty warriors to his right riding at a gallop amid cries of war which sounded like the howling of wolves.

  “Don’t stop! Bows!” Ingrid ordered. She was well aware that stopping to fight was their worst option.

  Lasgol and Viggo readied their bows and like Ingrid, nocked arrows without slowing down.

  “Aim at the nearest ones!” she yelled.

  By now the Masig were fifty paces away, riding parallel to them, showing them their weapons and shouting their war-cries.

  Suddenly Ona appeared from the tall grass, running at full speed. She drew level with Lasgol on his right, protecting him. Camu, who was much slower, had lagged behind, but in his camouflaged state he was in no danger. He followed them at a distance.

  They were about to release when one of the warriors in the lead pointed to Ona with his spear. Others followed his example, and they began to shout among themselves. Lasgol did not understand what they were saying, but they seemed very surprised to see the panther. The leader of the group was howling now, pointing at Ona as he did so.

  “Don’t release!” Lasgol told Ingrid and Viggo.

  Ingrid hesitated, seeing how close the warriors were to them. “Are you sure?”

  “Something’s happening! Don’t release!”

  Viggo was aiming at the chief just in case, but he held back.

  Suddenly the chief of the party changed direction and veered off to the north. The rest of the group followed him. Ingrid, Lasgol and Viggo went on westwards as fast as Trotter could go. They did not stop until the warriors were lost in the distance.

  They stopped to let the horses recover and to wait for Camu, who was taking his time catching up with them.

  “I think Ona saved us,” Lasgol said.

  “Really? How strange!” Ingrid said. She was still following the dust cloud which was disappearing northwards.

  “I think they were very surprised to see a panther traveling with us.”

  “And that’s why they let us go?” Viggo asked.

  “I think so. They love animals, and they respect them very much.”

  “Yes,” Ingrid said, “they have strange beliefs about animals and dreams. I’ve heard that too.”

  “Well, this time it’s my turn to say ‘Ona good!” Viggo said to the panther, who looked at him and chirped.

  He means it, he’s thanking you for being good. You saved us from the Masig, Lasgol explained. He was never sure how much of what he transmitted to her the panther understood, but he always suspected it was more than he imagined.

  Ona stretched out on the ground with her tongue out and chirped a couple of times as if to say: ‘it was nothing’.

  “In the end your beasts are going to be some use after all,” Viggo said, looking at Camu, who was just arriving. His tongue too was hanging out.

  Run much. Tired, he transmitted to Lasgol.

  Take it easy. We’ll rest a little until you’ve recovered.

  I recover soon.

  Good.

  They rested until the horses and Camu had recovered, then went on. When they reached the Half Moon Mountains, which were the spine of the Kingdom of Rogdon, they looked for the great pass which would allow them to enter the Kingdom, leaving behind the Masig and their beautiful tall-grass prairie.

  “These mountains are almost as high as ours,” Viggo said, looking up at the summits.

  “They certainly are,” Ingrid said. “They form a natural defensive wall around almost the whole of the Kingdom of Rogdon.”

  “We can climb them,” Viggo said, stretching his muscles.

  “We Rangers can. But an army can’t.”

  “Ah, I see…”

  Lasgol pointed. “There’s the entrance to the pass.”

  “Great, let’s go,” said Ingrid. She spurred her horse.

  The vertical walls on both sides of the canyon which formed the pass were immensely high. The pass itself was also wide enough for an entire army to go through. It looked as if a furious God had split the mountain with a flat mace, creating a stretch of flat land where there had originally been a mountain. There was not a single tree in sight, and barely any vegetation, only a great opening between the mountains which led into Rogdonian territory.

  Once in the colossal pass, they immediately felt themselves protected by the mountains that rose to right and left. It was like making their way along the bed of a great river which had dried up. It was not long before they made out something halfway through the pass which impressed them even more than the canyon itself: the Rogdonian fortress of the Half Moon.

  This was an unshakable stronghold with impassable walls which rose in the middle of the pass like a giant barrier of rock and granite whose purpose was to stop any attempt at invasion by an enemy host. Both the colossal fortress and the walls, more than sixty feet high and several hundred paces long, made them feel like nothing more than ants when they reached its shadow.

  “This fortress is magnificent,” Viggo said as he stared at it, clearly impressed.

  “They built it in the middle of the pass to stop any invasion from the east,” said Ingrid.

  “This fortress would withstand a whole army,” said Lasgol.

  “Not a Norghanian army,” said Ingrid. “Ours would conquer it.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Viggo objected. “It looks to me as though it would stand up to our army and a couple more at the same time.”

  “Bah,” Ingrid said scornfully. “Nothing can stand up to our infantry. We’ll never see it, but I think it could be taken by the Norghanian army. In fact if our kingdom wanted to, it could go on to conquer Rogdon one day.”

  This did not seem so obvious to Lasgol and Viggo, but they knew Ingrid loved everything connected with the Norghanian army and its power, so they exchanged a glance but said nothing.

  The Fortress of the Half Moon, bathed by a river and guarded on both sides by the great mountain range, kept watch over the entrance to the kingdom of Rogdon and greeted them with its intimidating, stoical presence of pure granite. They passed the checkpoint, and in order not to run into problems because of Ona, Lasgol asked Camu to use his power to hide her. The Rogdonian soldiers, easily distinguishable in blue and silver, with shining breastplates and helmets and spears which were equally polished and bright, let them through. The kingdoms of Rogdon and Norghana had signed a peace treaty, so that once they had identified themselves as Norghanians there was no impediment to them traveling on.

  Beyond the great pass, the plains of the realm of Rogdon were waiting for them.

  Viggo arched one eyebrow. “We’re not going to run into any trouble here, are we?”

  “I should think not,” Ingrid said. “The Rogdonians are a civilized, advanced people and we’re at peace with them, so the journey should be an easy one.”

  “Wonderful. I like my thrills,” Viggo joked, “but so many all in a row are going to make me choke at this rate.”

  “You and all of us,” Lasgol laughed, and they all smiled.

  Further on into Rogdonian territory they found a landscape which was green, flat and well-forested. The northern part of the realm was very mountainous, the home of dangerous tribes of fierce warriors known as the Norriel. Luckily for them they were not going in that direction but due west to the sea, to the port city of Usedol. This was located south of Rilentor, the capital, where King Solin reigned.

  It was regarded as one of the most powerful and advanced kingdoms of Tremia, and was relatively calm. At that moment it was at peace with both the Norghanians and the Nocean Empire, its rival kingdoms to north and south. They travelled through without any trouble, except for an encounter with a group of the famous Rogdonian Lancers who were patr
olling the realm. They were intercepted beside a forest, and when they were recognized as Norghanians, they were questioned about their intentions. Luckily Lasgol had seen them coming and had told Camu to hide himself and Ona.

  The officer of the detachment of Lancers had been curt, but relatively pleasant. Ingrid had given the right answers, and to Viggo’s surprise had behaved in a smiling, friendly manner, which he did not like one little bit. After chatting a little with her and advising her about the route they should follow, they had allowed them to continue.

  “All those lancers, so cocky with their black coursers and polished breastplates and helmets,” Viggo protested when they were alone. “They look as though they’ve come fresh from a parade.”

  “You’re envious because they look spectacular,” Ingrid said. She was watching them marching in perfect two-line formation.

  “Bah! Lots of show, but then at the moment of truth they don’t even know how to fight.”

  “How can you be so wrong all the time?” Ingrid raised her arms to the clear sky in mock-despair. “The Rogdonian Lancers have a reputation as an enviable military force, the best cavalry in the whole of Tremia.”

  “The horses are impressive, I give you that, but the men didn’t look like much. And with so much armor and helmets and all, they can’t fight very well. They’ll only be good at putting on a show.”

  “My father told me they were very good riders,” Lasgol put in, “who could hit an olive in a tree with their lances, at a gallop.”

  “And they cut infantry to pieces,” Ingrid added. “That’s why Rogdon’s a military power.”

  “You can say what you like, but to me they just looked like a bunch of pretentious swaggerers in blue and silver.”

  Ingrid shook her head. “Do me the favor of keeping your mouth shut till we get to the sea.”

  “As you wish, but you’re going to get really bored,” Viggo said. He gave her a charming smile, and Lasgol laughed.

  Viggo always funny, Camu transmitted.

  Very funny, Lasgol agreed.

  “On we go, we’re nearly there!” Ingrid cried, and they set off again.

  Chapter 20

  As Egil and Nilsa walked down Asofi’s main street, night was falling and the citizens were hurrying to finish their work so that they could eat at home or in the taverns and relax. Most of them, that is, because with nightfall another kind of citizen, in many cases a much less respectable one, would come out on to the streets. They would move through dark alleys and dubious places, seeking to earn their living in a less honorable way.

  Wrapped in their hooded cloaks, they walked on with their heads down so that nobody would spot their Norghanian features. Gerd and Val, who were indisputably Norghanian and stood out from a distance, were waiting outside the city in the woods to the west. Egil had had to persuade them to wait for them there and not risk being spotted. If they were, there was no doubt that they would be in serious trouble. The Zangrians would never let them walk freely around their town, particularly if they were unknown Norghanians with no apparent reason for doing so.

  “I don’t see why I can’t go,” Gerd had complained to Egil.

  “Because you’re too big. There’s no way to disguise that great size of yours.”

  Gerd pouted like a rebellious child. “I’m not that big …”

  “You’re big even for a Norghanian,” Nilsa pointed out, “so you’d be even more so as a Zangrian. You know they’re not much more than dwarves.”

  “I could bend over. Like a hunchback, or someone with a back problem.”

  “Sure,” Val said. “As if that wouldn’t get them all staring at you.”

  “Sorry, Gerd,” Egil said. “You’ll have to wait here for the second part of the plan.”

  “But I don’t want to miss the first part. Suppose you need me? Suppose you need my strength?”

  “The first part of the plan consists of scouting and identifying the target. We don’t need you for that. Believe me, it’ll be better if you wait here without attracting attention. We don’t need any trouble, particularly here. We could end up in a dungeon – or worse, hanged in the main square as spies.”

  Gerd had finally agreed, reluctantly.

  “Does that mean all three of us are going?” Val asked.

  Egil shook his head. “It’s the same sort of thing with you, Val. You’re too beautiful, you attract attention …”

  She made a face. “Too beautiful?”

  “Norghanian beauty.”

  “Oh … I see. My features …”

  “Exactly. Golden hair, large blue eyes, smooth white skin, tall and graceful. Zangrian women are dark and dumpy and generally have brown eyes. You’d attract too much attention.”

  “Even if I were hidden under my hooded cloak?”

  “Really it should only be me going,” Egil said. “I’m shorter, and I speak the language.”

  “No way!” Gerd protested. “It’s too dangerous!”

  “Forget that,” Nilsa agreed. “Suppose something happens to you?”

  “As I’d already anticipated this reaction, I’ve decided that only one of you will come with me, so that you can relax. The least suspicious of you is Nilsa.”

  “I disagree,” Val protested. “That red hair of hers stands out from a league away.”

  “It’s just as striking as yours, but Nilsa’s doesn’t proclaim to the four winds that she’s Norghanian. And in addition, her freckles and her height can let her pass as a foreigner from another kingdom, such as Irinel. We can get by. You’re Norghanian from top to toe, and there’s no way you can pretend otherwise.”

  She had to resign herself to the fact. “All right then …”

  “And what do we do while you’re in the city?” Gerd asked.

  “You’ll prepare the second part of the plan.”

  “Okay. I’d rather go with you, but if there’s no other choice …”

  “What do we do if anything happens to you?” Valeria asked.

  “Think before you act. That’s the first thing. Don’t run blindly to rescue us. The fortress is in the north of the city. If the soldiers catch us, they’ll presumably take us there. If that’s so, you’ll have to think out a plan to get us out, if possible.”

  “What do you mean, if possible?” Gerd asked in surprise. “Of course we’ll rescue you.”

  “That wouldn’t be the most appropriate course of action in a situation like that. The main objective of our mission is still to get hold of a cure for Dolbarar. If Nilsa and I can’t carry on, you’ll have to do it yourselves.”

  Val came to Gerd’s support. “But we don’t even know where we’ve got to go, or what to look for.”

  “You’ll have to go to the Library of Bintantium in Erenal …” Egil began, but Gerd refused to listen.

  “We’re not going to leave you as prisoners here.”

  Val threw out her arms helplessly. “I don’t think Gerd and I are skilled enough to find the cure in the Grand Library of Erenalia.”

  “I’m sure you’ll manage,” Nilsa said encouragingly.

  “Gerd is delightful, and strong as a mountain bear, but he’s not the most knowledgeable in the group. And I’m even less so. I’ve never been particularly interested in anything to do with the School of Nature. I was the worst at it in the whole Camp. I’m good at Archery, and not much else. I don’t think I’m capable of finding this cure in a huge library, because I guess it must be huge, right? At least so they say.”

  Egil nodded. “It’s the greatest library in the whole of Tremia, and the one with the most knowledge stored in it.”

  “Ufff, then forget it. We’ll never find the cure.”

  Gerd, his arms folded, was shaking his head in agreement.

  Egil sighed. “Yeah, it would be a complicated business for you to find the information we’re looking for. But even so, you’ve got to try if the two of us can’t go on. I’ll leave exact instructions in case anything should happen to us.”

  “I don�
��t know …” said Val.

  “You’ve got to trust my judgment,” Egil pleaded. “It’s Dolbarar’s life that’s at stake. Please.”

  Gerd breathed out heavily. “If you really think so, I’ll follow your plan.”

  Egil looked at Val, his eyes pleading.

  She shrugged, then smiled. “I’m new to the Panthers. I’ll do what I’m told to do.”

  “Thank you, both of you. It probably won’t be necessary, but it’s always convenient to have an alternative plan, just in case things go wrong.”

  Nilsa chuckled. “You’d better think of a plan with more than one alternative, because as it’s us, things are likely to go very wrong.”

  “Almost certainly,” Egil agreed.

  “Leave us precise instructions, or else we won’t make it,” Gerd said.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll write it all down for you, in detail.”

  “We appreciate that, though I’m sure we won’t need it,” Val said optimistically. “Everything’s going to go well with the first part of the plan.”

  “Sure to,” Nilsa agreed, sharing her optimism.

  The conversation had ended with big hugs and good wishes. Egil had set to work to leave no loose ends before he and Nilsa made their way into the streets of the Zangrian city. When he had finished he gave them one of his notebooks, with very precise instructions laid out in it.

  “Don’t read them until you have to,” he had told them in a low voice.

  “We won’t,” Gerd assured him.

  “It would bring bad luck,” Egil added, with a forced smile.

  For some reason, Gerd and Val guessed, Egil did not want them to read his instructions there and then. This was not encouraging, but they both respected his desire. Nilsa, intrigued, glanced at the notebook Gerd was holding. She too would have liked to know the contents, but despite this, nobody read it. They knew that if Egil had asked them it must be for a reason, and presumably an important one. He never joked about serious matters, and at that moment it was not only Dolbarar’s life which was at stake but their own.

  Nilsa and Egil left at sunset on their way to carry out the first part of the plan, trying to pass unnoticed by any Zangrian. The city had closed down for the night, with the last traders shutting their stalls and shops and the lagging citizens hurrying home.