Trials (26 page)

It’s my fault, it’s all my fault!
Komir felt as if a mountain of guilt were crushing him.

“Sandstorm!” shouted Kendas.

“By the goddesses!” cried Hartz.

Komir could not believe their bad luck.

What else can the gods of this hell throw at us? Why bother if we’re already dead?

The darkness of the storm fell on the group.

Sonea and Lindaro were walking slowly through a wild forest which seemed to be seeking to dissuade them with every step. They were tired, but more than that, they were frightened. Lindaro looked at Sonea and put a finger to his lips. The exiled librarian-apprentice stood still and silent, like a statue. The breeze from the lake on the other end of the bushy hill brought them the sound of several voices. Instinctively, both scholars ducked under the shrubs.

“Zangrian soldiers on patrol,” whispered Sonea.

“Do you understand their language?” Lindaro asked in another barely audible murmur.

“Yes, I studied with the Master Archivist of Languages. I can speak more than twenty different languages from all over Tremia. It’s one of my favorite studies. Nothing thrills me like learning to communicate with others.”

“You are a prodigy,” said Lindaro with a smile. “I only speak four languages, the commonest ones.”

“But you’re a man of faith, you devote a lot of time to the works of Light. I’m a… was a… librarian. My mission was to learn and preserve knowledge. Languages in particular and the need to communicate have always fascinated me. Besides, the more languages you know the wider the knowledge you can acquire.”

Lindaro smiled at the little scholar’s seriousness.

“Your passion and knowledge leave me speechless,” he said in a muffled whisper.

“They’re going west, let’s wait for them to go by and then continue north. The lake can’t be far away.”

The Zangrian column of soldiers walked by following the forest’s edge, but luckily for Sonea and Lindaro, did not go into it. With a sigh of relief, they stood up and went on carefully.

After half a day of walking northwards they left the forest, going down a steep hill which made for a difficult descent.

Sonea opened her mouth in astonishment.

A sea as blue and infinite as the sky was before them, a mirror for the sky on earth.

“By the all-creating Light!” said Lindaro. “It’s absolutely magnificent!”

Sonea could not say a word for several moments. It was as if the ancient gods had placed an indigo sea in the middle of those woods, a sea whose horizon vanished in the distance.

“It’s… it’s wonderful…” she stammered.

“But is it a sea or a lake?” the man of faith asked himself aloud. “According to the maps of these lands it should be a lake, but it’s so incredibly big that the eye can’t see its end.”

“That’s easy to find out,” said Sonea. She crouched on the rocky edge, scooped up some water with her hand and tried it. “Fresh. It’s a lake,” she said with a roguish smile.

“Excellent empirical deduction, what was I thinking!” Lindaro blushed.

“We’ve reached our destination,” said Sonea with pride. “This is the lake we’re looking for. And we’re still in one piece! Not bad at all for two peaceful, unarmed adventurers in hostile territory.”

“So what now?” asked Lindaro, looking at the blue expanse before them.

“The grimoire showed me this landscape. I’m sure of that, so I suppose what we have to find is somewhere in the lake.”

“You mean in the lake itself?” Lindaro said, looking confused.

“I don’t know. But I can’t think of any other explanation.”

“I only see leagues and leagues of water. Let me look at the map.” He took it out of his bag and studied it closely. “The maps show this lake as a single huge body of water. There aren’t any islands in it, or at least they aren’t shown.”

“The vision took me right to the center of the lake, at least that’s the impression I had. It was the center… I think we should find a way to sail across this lake and see what’s at its center…”

“That’s a very risky idea, Sonea. We don’t know how to sail, and we don’t even have a boat.”

“It didn’t seem too complicated. I was paying attention to how Flint managed his fishing boat, and I think I could do it. I learn quickly.”

Unable to stop himself, Lindaro burst out laughing.

“You do learn quickly. Is there anything you can’t manage?”

“Authority,” said Sonea with a sardonic grin.

Lindaro laughed again, “let’s find ourselves a boat, then. It’s an enormous lake, there should be a quay somewhere on the shore…”

“The thing is it’ll probably be military…” said Sonea with disgust.

“Yes, that would be a problem…”

Iruki Wind of the Steppes was running for her life. Four Zangrian soldiers were close behind her. She was running as fast as her nimble legs would allow, and her lungs were about to burst. She ran downhill, leaping over rocks and brush, avoiding pines and firs at dizzying speed. She risked a brief look back and realized she was establishing a lead. She could not let herself be caught, not now that she had the Sky Weed, which meant salvation for her father and her tribe. She left the forest and came out on the edge of a new lake. Here she stopped, panting, trying to regain her breath. This place was a labyrinth of lakes and forests with no way out. She looked ahead and saw that this lake was enormous, like a sea, much bigger than the others she had left behind in her search for the medicinal plant.

The lake was like an enormous tear of an immortal god.

Suddenly a blue flash made her start.

“By all the spirits of the prairie! What’s happening now?”

The flash came again, sharp, from her chest.

The Ilenian medallion! I don’t have time for this now!
She shook her head
. Where shall I go?
she wondered anxiously.
I came running from the south-east to the north, I must go north. If I go south I’ll get even further away from my steppes.

The medallion flashed in the form of a beam of blue light toward the center of the lake.

Iruki looked at it for a moment.
I don’t know what it wants, but this isn’t the time and I can’t go into the lake, no matter how much I wish I could,
she said to herself. She began to run north following the shore of that immense indigo expanse. She was breathing through her nose and exhaling as she ran as fast as she could. Behind her she heard the soldiers on her trail. But she was not wearing armor and she was a light daughter of the steppes. She would run like the prairie wind carried on invisible wings, and would put land between them and her. They would never catch her. Never.

And she ran and ran, without looking back. She rounded a bend and stopped in her tracks. She could not believe it! Her bad luck was unbelievable! The skunk spirit must have cursed her. Before her, less than five hundred paces away, was a small fort crowned with yellow and black flags. Protected by it was a small dock where half a dozen war barges rested in the water. The military building had been erected on top of a hill at the edge of the lake. It was made of rock and wood, not too big but sturdy. It surely housed a whole detachment of soldiers, more than one hundred for sure. She had come upon the Zangrian army’s military base for the area.

She turned round and saw that the four soldiers who were chasing her were not running any more but walking towards her, looking exhausted. She wondered which direction to turn in. She could neither go on or retrace her steps, and the lake beside her was suicide no matter how strongly the medallion indicated that way. The only thing to do was go into the forest. Without thinking twice, she began to climb the hill. With a little luck she would lose them among the brush, since after all she was quite a way ahead of them.

Then she heard the sound of hooves.

She turned and bitterly cursed all the spirits of the Beyond. Four soldiers on horseback, in yellow and black, were climbing after her. They must be a patrol from the fort, and clearly they had seen her. Iruki went on uphill but the horses gained on her rapidly and reached her before she got to the top. One of the soldiers hit her in the back with his steel spear and she lost her footing.

With a cry of impotence and rage she rolled downhill.

She fell, hitting rocks, earth and trees on the way, and ended up at the edge of the lake violently bruised. Her body ached as if a whole herd of pintos had passed over her. The pouch with the Sky Weed had fallen off her belt, but she found it a few steps away on the ground. She lunged to retrieve it ignoring the terrible pain. Nothing would stop her, nothing.

A rider reached her, shield and spear ready.

Iruki refastened the pouch to her belt and unsheathed her Ilenian sword.

“
Let us drink the blood of the enemy, my warrior, let my soul become young again as it bathes in the red fluid of life. Will you allow it, my mistress?”
the same cold, dangerous voice spoke inside her mind, seeming to come from the dawn of time.

“I allow…” she said to the bewitched sword.

A golden flash ran through her from head to toe, and she realized at once that it was no longer she who controlled her own body but the Ilenian sword. She was possessed by its soul.

The soldier directed his spear to Iruki’s chest without a word or gesture of warning, but the sword cast it aside with ease. Iruki saw herself turn on her heels and approach the rider in a single move. Before he could attack again the sword cut deep into the soldier’s thigh, hacking half his leg through its armored protection. Iruki turned again getting out of the horse’s way and saw the rider tumble from his mount amid screams of agony and fear.

“The nectar of life is delicious. My essence gains eternity with it, my soul finds its youth renewed with each tasty sip,”
the sword said in her mind.

Two other riders appeared, coming downhill and charged her.

Iruki noticed her body moving lightly, with the balance and dexterity of a lethal warrior, of a master swordsman. She was possessed by the spirit of an artist of the sword-fight. Her body crouched, then leapt, and the sword shone in the sun. A moment later she turned, advanced, parried, and the sword flashed again. In the blink of an eye both riders had died in the lethal dance which her body had performed.

She was flabbergasted.

Her four original pursuers arrived from the south.

“Don’t you even try unless you want to end like them,” she warned, not wishing the sword to end more lives.

The four soldiers exchanged doubtful glances, but then decided to attack.

“Today is my day, my mistress, today my blade will be rejuvenated by nectar and my soul will be delighted once more.”

The soldiers attacked, forming a barrier of interlocked shields, with their spears ready to launch against Iruki’s body. That scared her, since they were well protected and she was afraid, thinking the sword could not break that defensive formation.

She was wrong.

The moment the soldiers moved forward to launch their spears from behind their rectangular shields, Iruki’s body gave a huge leap and turn that took her right past behind the line of soldiers in an impossible somersault. She then swerved like a panther behind them and faced the unprotected backs of the men as they tried desperately to turn in time. The sword flashed four times like lightning and the four soldiers were dead before they even realized it.

Iruki was in absolute awe. She was possessed by the soul of an amazing warrior. The Zangrian soldiers could never stop her.

She was wrong again.

The fourth rider, whom she had already forgotten, came out of the trees at full gallop.

Iruki saw her body turning.

The soldier’s spear hit her on the head.

The sword fell from her hand as darkness enveloped her.

Iruki woke up to the cold drip of water on her face. Her head hurt furiously. She opened her eyes, trying to focus. She was shackled to a rough rock wall, and by the looks of it she was in a dungeon. Three men in Zangrian uniforms were staring at her with hostility. By the uniforms she guessed they were officers, not common soldiers.

One of them asked her something in Zangrian. Iruki shook her head.

“Do you speak the Common Tongue of the North?” asked the oldest of the three. He had white hair and was very tall, and by the braids on his jerkin he was probably the officer in command.

“Yes, I do…” said Iruki, understanding that they wanted to talk. The strange Zangrian language was unknown to her, but she knew the tongue of their northern neighbors.

The soldier nodded. The officer asked her: “What were you doing in the lakes?”

Iruki looked around the dark, gloomy room. She saw her belt with the leather pouch for the Sky Weed on a table beside her Ilenian sword.

“I was searching for medicinal plants,” she said, nodding towards the belt.

“It’s a little strange that a score of Masig dare to enter the Thousand Lakes,” said a second officer with a thick black beard and green eyes.

“The medicines we seek are very important for our people. Many have fallen sick and are at risk of dying. That’s why we came.”

“They’re spies, no doubt, working for the Kingdom of Erenal. The Masig never come this far into the lakes,” said the third one. He was fat and bald. “It’s absurd! They come into our territory fully armed in search of medicinal plants? Lies, I say!”