Trials (21 page)

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Authors: Pedro Urvi

BOOK: Trials
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“All right, all right… I’ll be more careful… don’t worry,” said Hartz somewhat subdued by now.

Komir found the fat, richly-dressed nobleman sheltering close to Kendas and Kayti. He had his arms around the young girl they had rescued from the river before. The man’s bodyguards lay dead on the deck in a pool of blood, together with several fallen pirates.

The girl was crying, while the wealthy man tried to calm her, stroking her hair and murmuring comforting words in her ear. In the midst of all that horror, fighting, screaming and blood, the girl’s terror was absolutely logical. The fat man looked at Komir appealingly, with frightened eyes. The young warrior understood and nodded.

Captain Albatros, together with several of his sailors, was still defending the ship’s stern in a desperate attempt to stand fast against a large group of assailants.

Komir identified the leader of the pirates. He was a giant of a man, taller even than Hartz, with a black scarf on his head. His mere presence froze one’s heart. He was wielding two short curved swords in his muscular arms. He shouted orders to his men as he made his way to Captain Albatros, cutting anyone who got in his way to pieces. Komir realized that if the Captain fell, the ship would be lost, the situation was critical.

“We can’t let them kill the Captain!” he shouted, pointing his sword in Albatros’s direction.

“Let’s go get them, then!” said Hartz. He was smiling cheerfully, and excitement shone in his eyes.

Let’s keep a compact line and advance together,” said Kendas, bringing his military training to bear. “That way it’ll be less risky. The fighting is too chaotic to go in separately. I’ll take the right flank.”

“I’ll take the left,” said Kayti, getting into position while she threw a warning look at the big warrior in the center. “And no bravado,” she added, looking grim.

“And I’ll stay at the back to help the wounded,” said Aliana. She was kneeling beside a passenger whose head was bleeding. “There are too many of them. If I don’t hurry, many of them will die. I have to try and save as many as I can…”

“Me help,” said Asti kneeling beside Aliana.

“Agreed, then,” said Komir, his eyes on the fray taking place in front of them. “Let’s go!”

No more than a few steps ahead, they were attacked by several pirates. Hartz struck so hard that he almost sliced a man in two. Kayti blocked an attack, then with a twist of her hand caught her assailant in the arm. Komir deflected a stroke to his face, then took a step forward and stabbed the pirate in the stomach. He then looked for the enemy leader, who by now had noticed the group’s presence and was shouting orders to his men. Komir went for him at once. Another pirate tried to intercept him, but Hartz blocked his way.

“Come to papa!” he yelled, drawing the pirate’s attention to him.

Komir went straight for the man who had led the assault. The giant met him with a thrust to the chest with one of his curved swords. Komir threw himself to one side and avoided the stroke by a hair’s breadth. Then he had the pirate leader upon him, striking right and left with short powerful thrusts. Komir defended himself, blocking the attack with sword and knife, but he was forced to back up before the enormous strength of the attack. His waist hit the railing of the ship. There was nowhere else to retreat.

The pirate crossed his swords on Komir’s neck, and the Norriel barely managed to block them by doing the same. The giant smiled triumphantly, showing two golden teeth. With all the force of his powerful arms he pushed both swords, looking for Komir’s jugular. The Norriel’s arms were shaking, from the effort.

I’m not going to die like this! I can’t!
he thought.
Nobody’s going to deny me justice!

With a surge of fury that sprang from the depths of his heart he pulled his head back, then whipped it forward and butted his enemy’s nose. There was an audible crack and the pirate’s nose broke, bringing tears to his eyes and drawing blood profusely. This weakened his opponent, and Komir took advantage of it to slide his weapons along the two enemy swords until they were free.

The pirate leader took a step back and shook his head, trying to clear it. His entire chest was stained with blood from his nose.

Komir raised his gaze and saw Hartz and Kendas leading the fray amid the cries of the blood bath. The pirates, undecided and fearful, gave way before them. Kayti freed Captain Albatros, who had been taken prisoner, and stood in front of him defensively.

Komir smiled. They were winning. All they had to do now was put an end to the situation. He had to get rid of the pirate leader, then they would have saved the ship. Komir showed his weapons to the dark skinned giant.

But the leader grinned, spat blood and moved forward.

Just then he heard a plea behind him: “Be careful, Komir!” It was the Healer’s voice.

He could not help himself looking in Aliana’s direction, and at that same instant, the pirate jumped on him. His swords came down with devastating strength, Komir could barely block the attack and lost his hunting knife in the process. The pirate struck again with both swords, and Komir blocked him with his own, holding it with both hands. The impact was terrible, and he nearly lost his weapon. He stepped back until he hit the rail.

The pirate struck once more. Komir lost his sword and fell onto one knee.

The giant laughed.

Aliana screamed.

Hartz ran as he yelled, “Let him be!”

Komir did not believe his friend would make it.
Too far away
, he thought.

Both the enemy’s swords rose for the final blow.

Komir closed his eyes desperately and lunged forward, pushing himself off the rail to gather momentum. He struck the giant in the stomach with his shoulder and grabbed the Nocean’s waist with both arms. The man bent over with a grunt, and Komir used all his strength to lift him over his head and push him overboard. The pirate leader flew in an arc and fell into the river.

Hartz arrived, and the two of them stared down at the water. The pirate leader was swimming towards one of the barges.

Hartz slapped Komir’s back so hard he nearly made him lose his balance. “Well played!”

“I was almost done. I don’t even know why I thought of butting him. I was only thinking of how to get rid of him. His blows were brutal. My arms and wrists are worn out.”

Kendas came up to them. “The rest of the pirates jumped in the river when they saw their chief fall. We’ve saved the ship, by a hair’s breadth, but we did it. It was close but that was a great fight, Komir, I’m glad you beat him.”

“Not half as glad as I am!” said Komir. He half-smiled, but pain soon wiped that from his face.

Hartz gave Komir a bear-hug and lifted him off the floor of the deck.

“I sure am glad!” he said, smiling, as he twirled his friend in the air.

“For goodness’ sake, put me down!” scolded Komir. But he could not help feeling tremendous admiration and happiness at his luck in having a friend like that always at his side.

Hartz put him down with a smile, and Komir winked at him.

“Look at those rats, how they’re fleeing!” said Hartz as he watched the pirates getting away. “They climb into their nutshells, soaking wet, just to get away from us! Run, you milksops, run! If you ever come near my sword I’ll gut you like vermin!”

He looked down the edge of his enormous Ilenian sword, and Komir caught a golden flash which ran down his friend’s arm.

Steps sounded behind them, and Komir turned sharply. Captain Albatross was coming towards them, limping noticeably. He also had blood on his forehead from a nasty cut to the head.

“I’ll never forget this,” he said, looking at Komir. “You’ve saved me and you’ve saved my ship. I won’t forget, I swear.”

The Captain stood in front of Komir and offered him his bloodied hand. Komir shook the Nocean’s hand firmly as the Captain looked him in the eye, then Hartz and finally Kendas.

“I won’t forget it,” he repeated, and limped away.

“Help me with the wounded, please!” pleaded Aliana. With Asti’s help, she was tending to a man with a terrible cut in his arm.

They all worked without pause for the following hours, trying to save as many as they could. The wounds were terrible, and there were many injured. Meanwhile the survivors, following the orders of Captain Albatross, were trying to create some order in the chaos.

Komir had his eyes on Aliana, who was growing paler and paler. He felt a deep admiration for her as he watched her taking care of the wounded. It was amazing that the magic she possessed allowed Aliana to do so much good for the injured and hopeless. Komir had always believed that magic was a form of power bent on destruction. Now, as he witnessed the good it could work his opinion began to change and his mind began to see the possibilities which a benevolent, benign kind of magic could offer.

The more he watched Aliana, the more lost he felt. Something was stirring inside him which made him happier and yet at the same time more nervous: something he could not understand. His heart yearned to be with the young Healer, to protect her from any evil, to make sure nothing bad ever happened to her.

Suddenly Aliana fainted.

Komir ran to her, fear running wild in him.

“What’s the matter with her?” he asked Asti.

“Too much healing. Her body not take more,” said the Usik, her eyes sad and worry on her face.

“But she’ll recover, won’t she?” Komir said with alarm.

“Only time can tell,” said Kendas with trembling voice. “The Healers who exceed the limit of their powers can be consumed and die… Aliana has gone far beyond what she should, trying to heal too many people, driven by her great heart. Pray to your gods for her soul, and perhaps they’ll help her return to us.”

Bitter Punishment

 

 

 

 

“At last…” gasped Sonea in exhaustion as she admired the wonderful spectacle that nature in all her exuberant splendor offered to her senses. “What a spectacular view!”

She had been climbing the path which crossed the mountain for the best part of the day, and had just reached the summit with a final effort. From that vantage-point, in the shades of the beeches with their long branches and oval leaves, the young librarian, open-mouthed, contemplated one of the most extraordinary landscapes visible to man in all Tremia.

The deep indigo blue of the multitude of lakes, all apparently separate from one another, stretching across valleys and plains until it blurred into the horizon, mingled with the evergreen of the forests which surrounded them. Sonea inhaled the air of the mountain deeply, and a mixture of pleasant wild scents filled her senses. She could see the snow-capped peaks of an impressive mountain range on the horizon.

She sat on the trunk of a fallen beech and gazed at the glorious scene at her feet. In the radiant light of the late afternoon sun she counted more than fifty lakes, making up a tapestry of different shapes. They were such a pure blue that Sonea felt like diving head-first from the very summit where she was sitting. She smiled to herself. It would be folly, but what a great folly to be able to plunge into all that beauty and feel both body and soul refreshed.

The lakes were surrounded by forests of different species of tree: beeches, oaks, firs, pines and still others she could not identify. The trees seemed to reach as far as the water of the peaceful lakes and drink from it. There was barely a spot of bare earth. It was as if the Gods had created a masterpiece, painting lakes, mountains and forests on an ever lastingly peaceful canvas, for Man’s delight.

Another mountain to the East, the Peak of Winds, prevented her from seeing beyond, but she knew, with the assurance of the well-informed, that the Thousand Lakes went on for leagues in that direction, as well as more to the West. Sonea sighed and relaxed her cramped legs. She had to keep going north through the middle of the beautiful landscape in a line as straight as she could follow. Several days ahead lay the biggest and deepest of the Thousand Lakes: Great Lake Vantoria, the one the grimoire had shown her.

Sonea’s heart shrank as she thought of the grimoire and the day of her departure. It had been more than four weeks before, the saddest day of her short life. Her soul wept with the grief of it. Her dear tutor’s eyes, deeply sad and filled with tears, were engraved in her memory of that last conversation.

“What was the verdict, Master?” she had asked him, unable to breathe.

The Council had been deliberating about the incident of the grimoire for three weeks. Barnacus had looked at her with the profound gaze of his years and the sadness of a soul which wept in silence. The scholar had tried to comb his unruly white hair. Sonea had immediately read the seriousness of the news in the gestures and face of her Master.

“The Council of Five has decided… to condemn you.”

Sonea swallowed hard.

“What penalty?” she asked, unable to keep her voice from breaking.

“Exile for three years, at the end of which they’ll decide whether you may return or not. I’m so sorry, Sonea…”

The sentence hurt as though a blade of ice had pierced her heart. She tried to hide her bitterness bravely.

“Don’t worry, Master… I’d imagined something like this. At least they didn’t expel me for good.”

“The Grand Master and the Master Archivist of the Knowledge of War demanded that.” Barnacus had had to exercise all his influence and friendship with the other members of the Council to reduce the sentence. Luckily he had convinced them, and the final vote was won.

“I’m so grateful, Master…”

“My heart breaks at having to let you go, my child.”

“I’m so sorry for what happened, Master… Will you ever be able to forgive all the pain and shame I’ve brought upon you with the way I’ve behaved and my lack of judgment? If I could change what I did…”

“No, not that. Never change the way you are, Sonea. You are a very special person, and you must follow your own path, wherever it takes you, to develop your potential and all the resources you have within you: not only in knowledge but also in spirit. I see a brilliant future ahead of you. You are a star just beginning to shine, and soon you will dazzle those around you because you possess an uncommon intellect and character, and in due course you will astound the world. This old scholar already knows that with absolute certainty.”

“How will I ever repay you for all you’ve done for me, Barnacus?”

“By always being yourself, my dear apprentice.”

Sonea smiled broadly. “Well, that shouldn’t be too hard.”

“You are very special, my young Librarian Apprentice, and that’s something you must never forget. Be always true to yourself, the more so the bigger the challenge that fate puts in your way. That unbreakable spirit and intelligence of yours will bring you unequalled achievements and victories.”

Sonea clung to her tutor. There were tears streaming down her cheeks. She had to leave soon, and who knew whether she would see him again. That had saddened her the most.

“And what about the Ilenian grimoire?” she had asked uneasily.

Barnacus smiled and pointed his finger at her.

“That’s the spirit!” he had said. “It’s been put under lock and key. They don’t want another unfortunate incident. Nobody may come near the secret volume, it’s been forbidden. They won’t allow me to study it. A terrible mistake in my opinion, but I couldn’t convince them otherwise. Particularly now that Rocol is wandering the halls with his face fifteen years older and his hair such a distinguished white. Anyway, if you ask me, he deserved it.”

“What has the Council decreed for him?” Sonea wanted to know.

“Even though he deserves to be expelled immediately and imprisoned by the authorities for the savage attack and the wounds he inflicted upon you, his family has interceded and saved him. They used all their influence. They are a very powerful noble family, close to the King. I’m very much afraid he’ll come out of all this unpunished. It’s disgusting, but that’s the world we live in. It’s another great lesson that shows how unfair life can be, one where honest people pay for the deeds of evil doers.”

“Don’t worry about that, Master… I don’t think he’ll ever come anywhere near me again after what happened.”

“Don’t be so sure, Sonea. The desire for revenge corrodes the hearts of men little by little, day after day. The result of that kind of suffering upon the soul can be unexpected, and it may lead to unthinkable actions. Perhaps at the moment the sick spirit of that scoundrel might be discouraged out of fear of what happened. But in time evil will find its way back into his thoughts, and unfortunately into his actions too. Rarely can a contaminated soul be rescued. Very few exceptional men who have committed evil deeds get as far as exoneration. Redemption is not within reach of men who are morally weak —only those with a strong will power and fierce hearts manage to redeem themselves. It’s something that requires great sacrifices, and very few are ready to make them. And it’s my belief that this young man is not one of those, my dear child. Always keep that in mind.”

“I will.”

Barnacus tried to comb his unruly mane again with both hands.

“What’s worrying you?”

“You, little one. What will you do now? You have to leave the only life you’ve ever known, that of a librarian… There’s a cruel world out there… although I assume your destiny awaits you out there and not in here…”

“Don’t you worry about me, you’ve taught me well. I’ll come through.”

“I’m not so sure that what I’ve taught you will be much help in the outside world, in the real world of men.”

“I’m sure it will be, Barnacus. Don’t worry.”

“What are you going to do? Have you thought which way you’ll go?”

“Yes, Master. The Ilenian grimoire itself laid it out for me. I must go to the Thousand Lakes, to the north-east, and find what the vision showed me. I’m absolutely sure it’s a crucial step on the way to unveiling the mystery that shrouds the Ilenians.”

“But Sonea, my child, that’s going to be very dangerous. You’re not ready, little one, not yet. You won’t be able to survive alone in the Thousand Lakes, it’s wild territory! What’s more, it’s territory in dispute with our unpleasant neighbors in the North, the Kingdom of Zangria, and the skirmishes between their troops and ours of Erenal are constant. What if you come across Zangrian soldiers? I don’t even want to think about what they could do to you… Can’t you postpone this mission of yours? It hardly seems the right time. You’re alone, going into wild territory which is almost at war, and we have no idea what other dangers you might encounter. I don’t like this one little bit… I can’t let you go alone, my girl. I’ll come with you”

“Don’t worry so much. I’ll be careful. I’ll follow the Path of the Lakes and make sure I find an inn in the nearest village before nightfall. There are all sorts of small hamlets whose business is fishing and timber, and if I keep to the south, away from the troubled area, nothing will happen to me. You know that, we’ve taken that route many times ourselves looking for Ilenian traces in the villages on the smaller lakes. As to coming with me… well, do I have to remind you what happened the last time, my dear Master?”

“That was a very unimportant incident, and it would never need to happen again.”

“Unimportant incident? You nearly died in my arms! No, your health is too frail to let you accompany me. Must I remind you of your age? And of how little energy you have for everything? The doctors made it clear: rest and a sedentary life, no exertions. Your heart isn’t what it used to be. I don’t mean to hurt you, my dear Master, but you know it as well as I do that you couldn’t manage the rigors of the trip. You wouldn’t want your death on my conscience, would you?”

Barnacus looked at her thoughtfully.

“I know you’re right, Sonea. It’s just that I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“You’ve already protected me enough. I need to follow my own path, find my destiny. This Ilenian grimoire has come to me for a reason, and I have to find out what it is. What’s more, the grimoire had a very strange effect on me. It conjured a spell using my body, my… spirit… somehow… I don’t understand why or how, it’s completely beyond me! But I know for sure it’s no coincidence that I’ve spent my whole life studying the few remnants of the Ilenian culture and symbols that have been found. It means something, and behind it all there’s a purpose, and that’s why I must follow the path outlined by the grimoire and find out what lies beyond it.”

“The fact that you invoked Ilenian magic is truly very significant, Sonea. Nevertheless, it’s also highly dangerous. We don’t know the nature of that power, and from what we’ve seen we do know it’s capable of killing. Mintel, the Master Archivist of Arcane Knowledge, maintains that the power this grimoire holds inside it, the spells written within it, imply a great ancestral power which requires a powerful mage to even control it. Mintel himself has declined to handle this magic after what happened, and he is an extremely powerful mage, always ready to acquire new occult knowledge. He’s one of my dearest friends, and he’s warned me seriously about the dangers hidden in this book.”

Sonea shrugged.

“I don’t know what happened. Only that I felt something powerful inside me, magic being created. Anyhow, if I’m not allowed to use the grimoire, I’ll go on without it.”

Barnacus waved his arms in agitation. His mane waved crazily about his head.

“If I really can’t dissuade you from your course, then promise me at least that you’ll be very careful.”

Sonea smiled full of affection. “Of course, Master. In just three years I’ll be back, before you even notice, knowing how wrapped up you’ll be in your endless studies.”

“I hope so, dear child, I hope so…”

“And I’ll bring back the thing we’ve toiled so hard for. I’ll bring the Enigma of the Ilenians back with me.”

 

 

 

Sonea was nearing her destination. From the hill she looked towards the north. On the plain she saw the small fishing village of Three Lakes. Once there, she would begin the last stretch of her journey: to the great lake of Vantoria. How right her dear tutor had been! She had not been prepared for outdoor life, and her journey through the rough land of the Thousand Lakes had been torture. Walking through all those thick forests, abrupt mountains and impassable lakes had been an ordeal for a body which was unused to long walks and sustained physical effort. Luckily she had calculated the length of each journey exactly, making sure she would be able to reach the next village or shelter at the end of the day.

“What the body can’t beat, the mind can master,” she said, pleased with herself. She was very tired, but after three torturous weeks she had managed to get there against all odds, avoiding soldiers and bandits, by calculating the risks involved and carefully planning every day beforehand. Who would say now that a small librarian could not survive the tough, wild world outside? She had almost done it. Half a day more to climb from where she was down to the small fishing village, and she would have made it, using the only resource she had: her intellect.

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