The Divining (30 page)

     He surprised her by giving her a direct look with his black eyes, and she heard truthfulness in his voice as he said, "I am sorry for that. I was afraid Veeda was going to die. I did not want to waste a single moment getting help to her. In these mountains, we are intensely tribal. We guard our treasures and resources, we are suspicious of people from other tribes. Rivalry is our
way of life. I did not know where you came from. You could very well have said no to me. And then what would I have done?"

     "How long do you intend to keep me with you?"

     "You can leave in the morning. I will give you food and a weapon, and directions on how to get to the City of Ghosts."

     "What about you and Veeda?"

     "We will go eastward."

     Once again Iskander gathered twigs and leaves, and went through the motions of creating a fire, yet did not light it. He prayed over the kindling, and set the ivory horn next to it, chanting as he did so until he sat back on his heels and said, "I am searching for members of my tribe. I do not know where to go. I believe they might have fled to the east. You said you were seeking a man called the Magus, that he has answers. Do you think he might help me?"

     Ulrika gave thought to her situation and circumstance and realized that, although she did not fully trust a man who had kidnapped her, she could easily get lost in these mountains and that it might be wise to keep Iskander with her.

     "He lives in the City of Ghosts. Do you know where that is?"

     They were dining once again on raw fish, nuts, and berries, and Iskander chewed thoughtfully before answering. "Yes, I can take us there."

     Ulrika heaved a sigh of relief. Soon, now, she would be returning a favor to the prince who had helped her mother long ago. She would ask him to take her to Shalamandar where she would begin anew the intended path of her destiny, which she prayed would make her free to be with Sebastianus upon his return from China, free to love him and be with him for the rest of her life.

     They heard a sound in the night. Ulrika gave a start, but Iskander laid a hand on her arm, saying, "We are safe. The traps are intact. Those men will not reach us."

     She glanced over at Veeda, who slept peacefully. Her fever was gone and her wound was healing. But Iskander would not let her walk, he carried her. She was not heavy. At fourteen, Veeda had only just started filling into womanhood. Although one could see the budding breasts, her body was still
slim and boyish. She wore her luxuriant black hair long and loose, but she had explained to Ulrika that when she married, she would bind her hair up under a scarf, as was her tribe's custom, and keep it hidden thereafter, only to be seen by her husband. Veeda wore a curious costume: leggings and a garment Ulrika had never seen before—tight fitting from neck to waist, with long sleeves, and secured up the front by a long row of tiny round slivers of bone slipped into slits. Veeda called the garment a "jacket" and the closure was made of "buttons." It looked like men's attire, Ulrika thought, yet it fit her very well, and seemed practical for mountain living.

     Veeda expressed a lively curiosity about the world and asked Ulrika many questions. It was only when she slept, whimpering in slumber with tears streaming from her closed eyes, that Ulrika wondered what secret pain Veeda carried in her heart.

     "But what if they make it past the traps?" Ulrika asked now. "What will they do?"

     "They will kill all three of us. For that, for the danger I have placed you in, I am sorry. But it was necessary."

     "Who are these men who pursue you?" Ulrika asked, and this time Iskander gave her a direct response.

     "They are from another tribe, the enemies of my people. A feud began between our two tribes many generations ago. No one knows who or what started it, or which tribe, but revenge was exacted over an incident, and of course further retaliation was called for. Revenge is our way of life. But it is an endless cycle. When we exact revenge against that tribe, they must retaliate, creating a new reason for taking revenge upon us. And so we have fought for centuries.

     "But an unforgivable act was committed five years ago. Men from my tribe, I am ashamed to say, stepped over the boundaries by raping one of their women. They declared war upon us and vowed to eradicate us from the face of the earth. They came in the night. We did not stand a chance. I was in the woods standing guard against an enemy I never saw, and returned to find my village razed to the ground, my people slaughtered. When the other tribe heard that I was still alive, they came after me. That was five years ago, and I have been running ever since."

     "And Veeda?"

     "I sought refuge in the village of a people whom I did not know. They were kind and took me in. I awoke to find a raid underway. My enemies had found my hiding place. They were burning the huts and slaughtering the villagers. When I saw this, I surrendered. I went outside and said, 'Here I am, take me.' They seized me. But when I saw that they were not satisfied with my capture, that they were going to continue to destroy the village as a punishment for giving me sanctuary, I broke free and I tried to fight them. But I was only one man against many. I ran to the house where I had been staying and found the family all dead. I heard a noise under the corpses and discovered Veeda. Her parents had shielded her with their own bodies to protect her. I escaped, taking Veeda with me. On a hilltop, we stopped and looked back and saw the burning huts, the dead, and we knew by the silence that the village had been wiped out."

     His dark eyes seemed to look inward as he released a ragged sigh and said, "I brought those men to that innocent village. I am responsible for all those deaths."

     "You were only trying to survive," Ulrika said softly, recalling a horrific battlefield in a Rhineland forest. "And you could not have known what they would do."

     "Now I search for remnants of my tribe, for I believe some escaped and might have fled to the east. This is why the Magus you seek interests me. Perhaps he can tell me if any of my people are still alive. Because, you see," he said, "it is insupportable for me to believe that I, Iskander, son of Sheikh Farhad Aswari, am the last of the noble and ancient Asghar tribe."

     Ulrika stared at him in disbelief.
He
was the prince she had been sent to help?

T
HEY HAD BEEN TREKKING
through the mountains for days, and now they were drawing close to the City of Ghosts. It lay just on the other side of the mountain pass. Villagers and farmers along the way had confirmed that indeed the Magus dwelled in that forbidden city, and he was reported to be a very wise man.

     And so forward the threesome pressed, up and up into dense forests, where the air grew thin and cold, where people friendly and hostile guarded their small territories and looked in curiosity at the unlikely threesome: the young woman with honey-colored hair and sky-blue eyes who spoke Greek but also knew some passable Farsi; the dark-eyed young man in the animal skins of a mountain tribesman, who seemed neither husband nor brother to his two female companions, a moody young man who had little to say; and the coltish girl with a ready smile, wearing the leggings and tight jacket of people in the south—a beautiful, large-eyed girl whom several men tried to buy from Iskander.

     The three had foraged for food along the way, or bartered with farmers,
or earned a meal with Ulrika's healing skills. They camped at night under the stars, and Ulrika heard Veeda whimpering in sad dreams, and Iskander pacing in sleeplessness. They bathed in cold mountain streams, and every morning and evening Iskander built a small fire to his god, Ahura Mazda, chanting prayers as he did so, while Veeda sang uplifting songs of praise to "the angels among us."

     And now they had come to the pass in the mountains that would lead them into a world few outsiders had visited. A world where, Ulrika prayed, the Magus still lived and possessed all the answers.

     She had no doubt now that Iskander was the prince she had been sent to help. But it troubled her that Iskander's people might have already been wiped out. How was she supposed to help him when she had come too late? Perhaps the Magus would tell him that survivors were waiting to be reunited with him in a new place in the east.

     Iskander had not spoken much in the last few days, but Veeda was cheerful and loquacious. She walked with a limp and tired easily, and was visited by nightmares of the destruction of her village, but she was a resilient girl and when she was awake was filled with a lively curiosity, and frequently had to be cautioned to keep her voice low, and to stay close to Ulrika and Iskander. The trackers remained in pursuit—Iskander's tribal enemies whom Ulrika had yet to see but whom she had heard—in their angry growls and shouts, and heavy footfall—and who she had no doubt would slaughter her and Iskander and the girl if they caught up.

     Arriving at the rough track that led between two mountain peaks, the three paused to look back. Here Ulrika finally saw them, down the slope, among the trees and boulders in the noon sun, bearded men carrying weapons, looking up at the trio at the top. The trackers stared at Iskander with fixed eyes, as the wind whistled around them and an eagle cried out from his aerie. And then, to Ulrika's surprise, the men wordlessly turned and started back down the mountain.

     She looked at Iskander. "Why did they turn back?"

     "This is the limit of their territory. From here, their gods are powerless. They will not follow."

     "Then we are safe?" Veeda asked hopefully.

     Iskander was silent for a moment as he watched the figures disappear down the slope, then he said, "They will not go far. They will camp and hope that I come down the mountain. I shall bide my time. When they have grown lazy and careless, I will go into their camp and slit their throats as they sleep. And then I will continue on to their village and burn it to the ground, leaving not a man, woman or child alive. In this way, my revenge will be complete."

     Ulrika stared at him. In their days of trekking through the mountains, she had learned that Iskander suffered from insomnia. Although he would drift off after a few minutes beneath his blanket, he was soon wakened by dreams and demons, and he would pace restlessly for the rest of the night. She knew now what kept him awake. Revenge was a powerful stimulant.

     "Let us go," he said and, turning, began the last steps of their journey.

     Steep, rocky walls devoid of vegetation embraced the three as they followed the track in silence, their leather boots crunching stones and gravel underfoot. The wind through the pass was strong, whipping back hair and cloaks. And the sun, as if mimicking their progress, reached its zenith and then, as the silent travelers began their descent down the other side of the mountain, began its own descent toward the west.

     As they crested the peaks they saw, beneath a late-summer sky that was deep blue and dotted with white clouds, a golden plain stretching before them in breathless majesty. The valley lay within a ring of lavender mountains, and the ruins of a city stood at the heart of the valley, massive walls and towering columns, charred and broken, the only testament to the savage and ruthless destruction that had taken place there three hundred years before.

     Iskander, Ulrika, and Veeda were soon down the eastern side of the mountain and following the ancient royal road across an old wooden bridge over the River Pulvar. As they entered a vast stone terrace from which immense stairways rose to the open sky, they stared in humble dismay at the piles of stones and rubble and toppled pillars that had once been the palace of Darius the Great. No gardens flourished here, no trees or flowers, not even a blade of grass—just a flat, barren plain shorn to its crust. They saw charred columns and a layer of powdery dust everywhere—ash from the
enormous rafters that had crashed down during the terrible inferno set by Alexander's torch, all that was left of the mighty cedars from Lebanon, and teak trees from India that were once fabulously painted columns capped with gold. Walls of dark limestone that had been laboriously engraved by skilled stonemasons depicted stiff parades of people long forgotten, now the only inhabitants of this desolate place. And as if to add final insult, proof of prior tourists visiting the ruins was found in graffiti etched into the walls:
Suspirium puellarum Alypius thraex
(Alypius the Thracian makes the girls sigh).

     When they came upon a pair of stone pillars capped by a massive lintel, Ulrika stopped and stared. "I know this place," she said in a tone filled with wonder. "I have been here before."

     Iskander and Veeda turned to her, their hair dancing in the cool wind.

     Ulrika scanned the rows of stone columns that stood at attention on the flat plain. Pillar after pillar, perfect in their lines, hundreds of them. "I remember thinking this was a forest of stone trees."

     She resumed walking. "I was told that the Magus lives north of this place. I believe my mother and I met him. We passed through these ruins when we left Persia. I can't have been more than three or four years old at the time." Ulrika took in the walls covered in bas-reliefs and cuneiform text, the stairways leading to nowhere, the sad remains of what had once been grand palaces and gardens.